


I AM NOT A ROBOT

by LessonsFromMoths



Series: i'm stuck in HQ tumblr hell [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Allusions to Detroit: Become Human, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Androids, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou are Bros, Court Proceedings, Fluff, Friends as Family, Happy Birthday Kenma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kenma is asexual but it's never mentioned, Kuroo is an android, Like so insanely fluffy i cant, Love, M/M, Mentioned domestic abuse, Mild Hurt/Comfort, No Prior Knowledge Needed, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Reunions, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LessonsFromMoths/pseuds/LessonsFromMoths
Summary: He has a routine. Go to class, go home, play video games, stream, go to bed, repeat. He's always been alone. And really, he likes it better this way.  Everything changes when Kenma finds a broken, beaten android on his way home from class one day, begging for him to tear out its wires.Will it be for better or worse?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin, mentioned Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Series: i'm stuck in HQ tumblr hell [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851007
Comments: 75
Kudos: 140





	1. home in this place

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh hello! 
> 
> I wasn't going to post this for a while yet but honestly it's Kenma's birthday and it seemed fitting, since this is my first time explicitly writing KuroKen (I am very, very excited). This shouldn't be too many chapters, but because I posted this first chapter a bit prematurely I'm not sure when the next one will be posted. Please be patient with me! I will say that I'm expecting to have this entire thing posted by Kuroo's birthday! 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I allude to DBH a lot, but you don't need to have any knowledge at all to understand, I just use their lore for a lot of Android things (including Kuroo's model). Relationship/Character tags to be added as they show up :)
> 
> Fic title taken from [I am not a robot](https://youtu.be/S_oMD6-6q5Y) by MARINA.   
> Chapter title taken from [This is home](https://youtu.be/ZM_Gamwxvtc) by Cavetown.
> 
> Un-beta'd, proceed with caution!

“Don’t get so lost in your video game that you forget to text me again!” Shouyou’s words follow Kenma on his walk home as he throws his sweatshirt hood over his head and hunches his form around his phone, cradling it in his hands like it’s made of gold. With how valuable it is to Kenma, it might as well be. Like most things made of aluminum alloys, reinforced plastics, and precious metals, he understands his cell phone more than he does his fellow humans, with their electrical impulses and chemical reactions and organic material. Give him a machine over a human any day. 

Like he does every day on his walk back from campus he unlocks his phone and pretends to be preoccupied with it so no one looks at or tries to speak with him. He’s just out of the thick of the crowd when a noise that he doesn’t usually hear during his commute catches his attention. His head involuntarily snaps towards a well-lit alleyway where the noise is emanating from. He pauses for half a second before switching direction to the alleyway. Is it a smart move? Probably not. But Kenma’s always been too curious for his own good. 

He finally realizes why the sound piqued his interest: it’s the whirring of some kind of machine, its gentle clacking familiar and almost soothing to a gearhead like Kenma. He spends all day in his labs and workshops being taught by professors and surrounded by students, all of whom also prefer the company of machines: it’s only natural that he, too, is attracted to the familiar sounds of his professor’s workshop. 

He follows the sound to a large dumpster, and by the smell of it, it isn’t emptied often. Kenma approaches it anyways, standing on his tiptoes to peer into it. What he finds is not anything he could have expected.

Lying in the dumpster, looking worse for wear, is an android. It looks like one of the American-made ones, but its human-like interface seems to have suffered damage, as half of its face is human-like while the other half has reverted back to the default, milky white structure of a CyberLife android. Kenma can only see a little bit of it from his position, but its limbs look twisted and ugly, its perfect white structure marred with scratches and gouges. 

Kenma figures that it probably got hit by a car accidentally and then was thrown into the garbage by whoever hit it. He leans closer to get a better look and suddenly the android lunges towards him, and despite it looking barely functional enough to grasp anything it manages to curl its fingers around Kenma’s arm. 

“P-p-p-p-please,” its voice is sharp and heavy with a hollow, robotic-sounding twinge to it. Definitely has a damaged vocal box. “P-p-p-please.” Based on the way it’s stuttering, he bets that it has some damage to its core circuiting as well. The LED light on its temple is flashing red, signalling its distress. 

“P-p-p-p-pull the wires out-t-t-t-t-t,” its head jerks with each repeated consonant, its eyes boring holes into Kenma. He notices that the android’s other hand is pointing towards its chest, where some loose wires hang from its body. It looks like the android has been trying to power itself off, but hasn’t been able to, likely due to anti-suicide programming. Kenma stares at it for a moment before reaching forward and holding down a few buttons present in the chest in succession to put the android in a sleeping state. At least it won’t be able to experience any more traumatic events.

He peels its fingers from his arm and casts one last glance at it. On second thought...what are those abrasions on its arms? They look like...Kenma pulls back with a shiver. It looks like someone took a hammer, with its small, flat head, and bashed it repeatedly into the body of this android. The gouges could be from the claw of the hammer. Kenma’s blood runs cold. In Japan, androids have no human rights. But as a student of programming and computer sciences, he knows that androids can feel. They may not be able to feel pain, but they do feel something similar to human emotions, and the trauma that this android has experienced, likely at the hands of its owner...Kenma is both devastated and a little disappointed to see it wasting away. 

He hesitates for a long moment before pulling out his phone and sending off a rapid-fire text. The response comes less than a minute later: _OF COURSE!!!!!!_

And then the follow-up: _Be there soon!!_

Ten minutes after that, a familiar head of gelled white and black hair comes into view. “I can’t believe you texted me!” Bokuto yells into the empty alleyway. Bokuto always seems to be yelling; the guy doesn’t have a volume control. If he did, Kenma might actually hang out with him. As it is, he tries to avoid contact with his overzealous neighbor any chance he gets. Unfortunately, androids are fairly heavy and Kenma needs his muscled neighbor’s help in order to get this damaged one back to their apartment complex. Bokuto has made it clear since Kenma moved in six months ago that if he ever needed anything, the wild man was only a text away. It’s a bit comforting to know that Bokuto wasn’t lying. 

“Can you help me?” Kenma gestures vaguely to the broken android hanging limply from the dumpster. He avoids Bokuto’s eyes, which are undoubtedly flicking between the android and him. 

“Whoa,” Bokuto breathes, leaning closer until he’s almost face-to-face with the android. “Someone really did a number on this thing.”

Kenma nods quickly. “Can you help me get it back to the apartment?”

Bokuto immediately straightens, flashing Kenma a wide grin. “You can count on me!” Together, they extract the android from the dumpster and Bokuto slings it over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. Kenma definitely made the right choice calling Bokuto for help, since he’s sure he would’ve had to drag the android all the way home. They walk back to the apartment complex side-by-side, Bokuto strangely silent. “So what are you gonna do with it?” He finally asks. 

“Fix it, maybe.”

Bokuto’s entire frame lights up, his steps bouncing even more than before (is that even possible??) and his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “Honest?? You can do that!? You’re awesome, Kenma!!” Kenma stares down at his feet to hide his face behind his curtained hair, cheeks burning red at the compliment. If Bokuto notices, he kindly doesn’t say anything. Bokuto chatters as they approach their building. Kenma can count the things he knows about Bokuto on one hand, but by the time they reach his apartment door he learns that Bokuto plays volleyball on their university team, his best friend’s name is Akaashi, he has a penchant for getting into trouble, and he’s in his last year studying mathematics. When he “grows up,” he wants to be a professional volleyball player, and then maybe a mathematics teacher once he retires. 

“Of course, if I could play volleyball forever, I would! But Akaashi says that that isn’t very realistic. Akaashi’s pretty smart about those kinds of things. So I usually listen to him.” 

They’re standing in front of Kenma’s door as he unlocks it. He waves Bokuto inside, and the taller man stands awkwardly in his doorway, looking at the android slung across his back. “Uh, where do you want this?” He asks. 

Kenma surveys his small apartment. He spends most of his time here, but you wouldn’t know that just by looking. His decorations are sparse and he only has the bare minimum: a TV with a few different gaming consoles on top of an overturned cardboard box, a shabby couch from a secondhand store and a matching coffee table, a fridge that came with the apartment, a microwave for simple meals, and a lamp that his mom bought him to “brighten up the place.” In the kitchen, a small kitchen table with four chairs is set up. It’s the nicest thing he owns. 

“The coffee table,” he says after a moment of hesitation. “Thank you, Bokuto.” 

“Let me know how it goes, hey?” Bokuto grins as he sets down the android. “Akaashi’s coming over soon so I gotta go! Bye Kenma-san!” 

“Just Kenma,” he mumbles, and Bokuto sends him a wink before leaving Kenma’s apartment to go to his own. And now it’s just Kenma and the broken android. If he’s being honest, it’s been an emotionally taxing day, so he decides to leave the android for tomorrow. He only has one class tomorrow, so he’ll be able to work on the android in the morning before his afternoon class. It looks so vulnerable, lying prone on his coffee table. It’s also much too tall to comfortably rest on it, its head and limbs flopping unceremoniously and almost comically over the edges of it. Good thing androids can’t get cricks in their necks. 

Kenma chokes down some rice and eggs for sustenance, then flicks off all of the lights in the apartment, plunging the android into darkness. For some people, it might be unnerving to have a strange android in their apartment. To Kenma, it almost feels like home. He brushes his teeth and changes into something more comfortable before collapsing into his bed, pulling out his DS to waste some time before he falls asleep. It’s a good night.

In the morning, Kenma immediately visits the android, drawn to it now that his mind is a lot less tired. Its synthetic skin is still only half-working. Kenma drags the lamp over to the coffee table and starts snapping pictures of the damage so that when he goes to class he can ask his professor for advice on how to fix it. He’s careful as he snaps pictures first of its legs, then its torso. He’s careful to pop open the torso compartment and take pictures of the slight damage inside, then moves onto the chest compartment, arms, hands, and finally head. 

The android is really busted, but he’s looking forward to trying to fix it. At least now he’ll have an excuse whenever Shouyou asks him to hang out with him and his loud friends. Kenma doesn’t really have a problem with them, but they don’t really know what to think of him and vice versa. 

From the get go, Kenma can tell that there must be something fundamentally wrong inside the android to keep it from self-healing. Once he can repair that component, the android should be able to repair any outer wounds, like the gouges. The android also has blue blood pooling in its torso trunk, which means that there’s probably a small internal leak that Kenma will have to patch up, then find more blue blood to replace it. He hopes that this repair won’t cost him too much money. He makes enough from his Twitch streams to buy groceries and new games, and his parents pay for his rent as long as he agrees to complete his degree, which means that he would have enough money to pay for any repairs necessary...but he wouldn’t love spending hundreds of dollars to get a random android back in working order. 

He starts with the easy things that he knows he can do without an official diagnosis. He takes a cup from his kitchen and starts slowly collecting the blue blood into it and dumping it into the sink. The blue blood is tainted with other biocomponents that he won’t be able to separate out, so it’s useless. He is so not looking forward to going to the store and buying the right components. To find out what he needs he’ll have to figure out the serial number of the android, but it’s too damaged for him to find it normally. Kenma will have to wait until class and hopefully convince his professor to lend him one of their lab diagnostic meters. 

Once he’s baled most of the blue blood from the android’s torso trunk he starts studying the facial components where the artificial skin is still working. Even though androids are personalizable, they usually share the same general facial features, body structure, and shape as similar models. If he can figure out what model this one is….

It has dark hair on half of its head, a pointed chin and sharp jawline, slight and tall frame, and slightly broad shoulders. When he types those features into a search engine he gets nothing specific, and Kenma soon gives up. He’ll just have to wait until he gets back from class. Speaking of class, he’s going to be late if he doesn’t leave soon. 

Kenma accepts the fact that he won’t be able to eat lunch until after class since he had forgotten while he was messing around with the android, so he just grabs a jacket to hide in and his backpack before locking up his apartment and escaping the building before Bokuto could catch him and try to talk with him. Yike. 

Kenma generally likes his classes this semester. Now that he’s a second year, he’s at least able to take classes that he’s really interested in, and he took advantage of it by filling his schedule with robotics labs and classes to teach him about the ins and outs of technology. When he had first started university, he considered joining the game design department, but quickly found that while he enjoyed playing games, he didn’t quite possess the creativity to design his own games. But he did take an interest in consoles and other devices, as well as the coding behind important programs. 

“Kozume-san!” His professor greets him as he slinks into the classroom. 

“Sensei,” Kenma mutters in acknowledgement, inclining his head. Nekomata was a pretty okay man, and an even better professor. This being the second android-focused class that Kenma had taken while at college, he found that he’s enjoying android classes much more than he thought he would. There’s a lot to know in the way of ethics, programming, and components. The android revolution in America proved that they were able to develop their own conscience and sense of being, but android laws all over the world were still highly restrictive. As much as Kenma hated controversial things, he loved learning about androids. What about them creates self awareness? What causes deviance? At first, android researchers thought that it was a flaw in the coding, or a virus, or even a processing error. There are fanatics who say that it’s even an upgrade.

Not even thinking about the cause of deviancy, deviancy itself is fascinating. It causes androids to use thoughts and behavior not included in their programming or even against their programming, making it seem as if they’ve developed consciousness. Deviancy leads to androids being able to break free from their intended purpose and impose free will, though many were unsure of how to practice free will and continued with their original purpose. 

Kenma sits through the lab, listening attentively as Nekomata-sensei runs them through their experiments on the properties of blue blood. Kenma pairs up with Lev, a kid from his class that he holds more disdain than love for, but he’s the only one willing to be the lab partner of Kenma, who knows that his quietness is off-putting. Lev doesn’t seem to mind much, though, since he claims that he always gets higher grades on his lab reports when he’s paired with Kenma. Kenma secretly thinks it’s a lie, but he’s quietly pleased that Lev doesn’t hate him. 

“So what’d you do this weekend?” Lev asks excitedly as they wait for their blood to boil. Kenma keeps a careful eye on the thermometer, noting changes in his mind. 

“Nothing,” Kenma says. 

“Nothing? That sounds...nice,” Lev responds uncertainly. “I got to see my sister! She was overseas last semester in Russia but now that she’s back it means that…” Kenma tunes him out as he takes careful notes on the boiling process, noting the slight color change and how it’s odorless. “...do you have any siblings?” Lev finishes, and Kenma is surprised he still has words to say. 

“Now we have to check its absorbance,” Kenma flips to another page in his lab journal so that Lev can copy down what he wrote. 

“Oh!” Lev dutifully starts copying his notes on the boiling, forgetting about his question. Kenma is grateful for it. The last thing he wants to talk about is himself. Or his family. 

The rest of the lab goes smoothly, with Lev asking Kenma the sporadic question between his own anecdotes and life stories and Kenma responding with one-word answers and stilted answers to keep his distance. Is this what having friends would be like? Shouyou always respects his privacy and they don’t talk about much more other than video games (Kenma’s hobby) and volleyball (Shouyou’s hobby). If what Lev was doing constitutes being a friend, it must be exhausting. 

After class Kenma thanks Lev for the good lab and makes his move for Nekomata-sensei, bowing slightly in hello. “Sensei, might I be able to check out one of the diagnostic machines? I’d like to do some exploration outside of class.” 

Nekomata’s face lights up. Kenma understands: he’s probably the student who looks the most uninterested in their lessons, so him approaching the professor after class is kind of a big deal. “One moment, Kozume-san,” he smiles, turning to open one of the cabinets in the lab room. He produces the diagnostic machine, a handheld device with a cord that attaches to the device and is meant to plug into the android. “If you need any help, you let me know, got it?” Nekomata’s eyes are alight with amusement and excitement, and Kenma nods in assent. 

“Thank you, Sensei,” he bows again before hurrying out of the room so Nekomata won’t have time to ask any more questions. He doesn’t think he’d get in trouble for fishing an android out of a dumpster and fixing it up, but he’d rather no one pry into his own personal business. It’s bad enough that Bokuto knows. He had left a few texts for Kenma asking after the android, which Kenma has been resolutely ignoring. Bokuto needs to learn to be less curious. 

Kenma gets home more quickly than normal, and he refuses to address it. He obviously didn’t walk faster because he wants to work on the android. Not at all. On his way up to his apartment, he runs into Bokuto’s friend, Akaashi, leaving the complex. 

“Oh, Kozume-san,” Akaashi bows politely. 

“Just Kenma,” Kenma mutters. He’s never been one for honorifics, and he likes Akaashi. He’s polite and respectful of personal boundaries. Kenma wonders how he can stand to be friends with Bokuto. Opposites attract seems like too much of an understatement when it comes to Akaashi and Bokuto. But then again, it’s none of Kenma’s business. 

“Kenma,” a miniscule smile appears at Akaashi’s mouth. “Bokuto-san said that you found a broken android?” 

Kenma nods. “It’s in pretty bad shape.”

Akaashi hums. “That’s what he said.” They pause for a moment, the silence charged with some kind of weird, undecipherable emotion. Even though Kenma likes Akaashi more than the average person, he still doesn’t understand the calculating look in his eyes. It reminds Kenma of himself, if he’s being honest. “Good luck, Kenma-san. Take care of it.” Akaashi nods his head at Kenma and walks away like a ghost might. Kenma wonders what Akaashi might have been referring to. Take care of it? What does that even mean? 

He completely forgets about Akaashi’s words when he gets back to his apartment and sees the android still lying where he left it, just as lifeless as before. He leaves his backpack and shoes at the door and fishes the diagnostic machine from his bag before padding over to the android, fingers tingling in anticipation. Once he has the diagnostics run, all he’ll have to do is buy the correct components and then install them, then tinker with a few things to help the android along. After that...well, Kenma hasn’t thought that far ahead. But the thought of making the android function again makes his heart leap, so he unfurls the cord of the diagnostic machine and sits down next to the android’s head.

Every android has a port on the back of their neck that allows for physical connection to other machines, and he carefully plugs the machine into the android’s neck, grateful that the port isn’t damaged. He holds the diagnostic tool in both hands, eagerly watching the load bar increase until it chirps, indicating that it’s at 100% and has an official diagnosis. 

_**Model KL950  
SN #785495XNF  
Blood Type TH312  
OPS 4 ex  
Charge 199 yrs** _

When he scrolls down, he gets a list of all of the damaged components and their current working capacity. Overall, it doesn’t look like the android should be too difficult to repair. Kenma will need to get more blue blood, a different processing component for the repair mechanism, a new filter (also called “lungs”) to keep the android from overheating, a new ocular unit for the damaged eye, and a few miscellaneous components. 

For now, he’ll order the blue blood and repair component so that the android can begin its self-repair. Once it’s finished he can run another diagnosis (or the android may be in good enough shape to run its own diagnosis, which would be ideal) and finish up with repairs. 

Once Kenma orders the blood and self-repair parts, he opens up his browser on his laptop to look up information on the model. 

It’s a KL950, which is the newer, specialized version of the original KL900, which was developed to provide social care, help broken families, assist victims of trauma, and/or care for psychologically disturbed patients. Quietly, Kenma wonders what it does to the psyche to be cared for by an android. Even more quietly, he mourns the irony of an android being designed to help with trauma experience said trauma itself. 

The KL950, then, is marketed specifically as an “emotional support” android. Its purpose is to provide not only companionship, but also psychological services and tools to assist broken families and individuals suffering from mental illnesses. According to the article, they’re often used as AA mentors, friends, and alternative therapists. In America, it’s called LUKE. In Japan, the model is marketed as TETSUROU. 

Kenma itches to reactivate the android to ask it what happened that ended with it begging to be deactivated in an alley dumpster. While Kenma is notoriously antisocial, he's also too curious for his own good. He knows that reactivating it now would be too cruel, though, as it's suffering from extreme blue blood loss. Its body would also probably try to repair itself over and over but be unable to due to the damaged parts. He wishes he could do more right now, but without the android awake he won't be sure what it can self-repair and what will need to be tinkered with, so he resolves to continue researching it. 

There are pictures of the TETSUROU, and he lazily scrolls through the gallery. Most of them look about as tall as his, but their hairstyles differ wildly. They also have different facial features depending on the region they're released. Their most unique feature compared to other models is their personalized smiles, which are unique to each TETSUROU android. Supposedly, they're supposed to tailor it to the people they're helping, which is apparently less unsettling? Kenma shakes his head, closing the browser and bringing up his homework. He'll have the Thirium and parts that he ordered by tomorrow, so for now he'll wait as patiently as possible (he's never been known for that particular trait). 

His phone buzzes and he lunges for it, wanting to do anything other than write this lab report. 

_Kageyama’s coming over tonight for videogames. Wanna kick his ass?_

Kenma hums, absentmindedly scrolling through his and Shouyou’s older conversations as he mulls it over. Stay in his apartment and play games by himself with the guilt of his undone lab report looming over him and the anticipation of fixing the android, or voluntarily spend time with Shouyou and his weird on-again-off-again boytoy? 

_nah, think i’ll stream tonite. thx tho_

_Can’t fault you there, a camera is much better company than Bakeyama._

Kenma can just _hear_ Kageyama’s yells of protest. He feels immediate relief at turning down Shouyou’s invitation. Kenma goes about setting up his stream for the night. He’ll probably play something simple and mindless, like Overwatch. He’s been playing a lot more calming games recently so he thinks his viewers deserve to see some action. 

He doesn’t have a regular stream schedule, which he’s been given a lot of shit for but doesn’t really care about. He still has a million or so followers who watch his streams religiously, with a few hundred thousand stragglers joining in to watch. They know he’s a university student who streams when he can, and most don’t have a problem with it. 

“Hello, it’s Kodzuken. Welcome back. Tonight we’re gonna play Overwatch, mostly because I know you all are itching for some violence. You know what? I am, too. So let’s shoot some things, shall we?”


	2. i've grown tired of this body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma fixes the android. Sort of. The android gets a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! about a week later and here is chapter 2. I've decided that this will probably be about 5 chapters, so be on the lookout hopefully every week for a new chapter (no promises, though! it might be every week and a half or every 2 weeks!). 
> 
> chapter song: [Body](https://youtu.be/4o0WYiK52Dg) by Mother Mother

Kenma gently clicks in the final piece of the self-repair mechanism, hands shaking in anticipation (or from the soda he chugged upon waking up at nine in the morning. Honestly, he’s not sure exactly what it is at this point and he’s not sure if he wants to know). Right after he woke up he checked his front porch and was pleasantly surprised that the package of new parts was waiting for him. Thank the gods for overnight shipping and the early bird delivery. He’d then moved straight to the living room and cut out the broken part on the android, replacing it with help from the internet and his lab textbook. 

Once he’s fairly sure that he’s more or less done it right, he lets his fingers hover over the switch to turn the android back on. Most androids will gradually turn on, but broken androids are unpredictable, especially since he initiated a forced shutdown on this one. “Shit, the blood!” Kenma reminds himself, moving away from the android and tearing open their packaging. He opens the abdominal trunk on the android and feeds the blood into one of its major pumping compartments. Once he’s emptied a bag or so into it, he closes the trunk and sets the blue blood aside. He’ll have the android drink the rest of it so it can be pumped evenly through its body. 

Before he can think it over too much he reactivates the android, the buttons and switches cool against his fingers. He sits back as he watches the LED on its temple swirl yellow before settling on a cool blue. A good sign. The android’s eyes flicker open and it sits up violently with a gasp, eyes wide open and hands grabbing at its chest. The LED flashes wildly, alternating yellow and red with distress. 

“The wires-s-s,” it says as it looks down at itself. 

“I fixed them the best I could,” Kenma says shyly, and the android turns itself to him. 

“Y-y-y-you shut me-e off,” it says. Kenma hates how he can’t read androids even more than he can’t read humans, especially since it still only has half of its human skin on. He hopes it isn’t angry. He nods. “And y-y-y-you turned m-m-m-me back on.” Kenma nods again. “Why?” 

Kenma shrugs. “You should drink this,” he hands the bag of blue blood to the android. “Is your self-repair machinery working?” 

The android gently takes the bag and gazes off into space for a moment, likely running diagnostics. “Y-y-y-yes. My machi-chi-chi-chi-chinery is being rep-p-p-p-paired as we speak-eak-eak-eak-eak.” The android’s face twists oddly. “I hope it-t-t-t-t fixes th-th-th-that.” 

“Just drink the thirium. It should help,” Kenma says, still staring at the android. If it finds this odd, it doesn’t say anything. “I have to go to class, but will you be okay here? Hopefully by the time I’m back we’ll know what you can fix by yourself and what you’ll need help with.” 

The android nods, but the movement is still a stuttering of machinery. Kenma leaves the living room to get ready for the day, dressing and packing his bag. “Wait!” The android says as he places a hand on the doorknob. Kenma turns to look at the android, which is sitting more normally on the edge of the coffee table now, its feet flat on the floor and its bag of thirium almost drained. “C-c-c-c-c-can I have your name-me?” 

“Kenma,” he says simply.

“Kenma. I-I-I-I-I-I’m Kuroo,” the android waves jerkily, then looks annoyed that it can’t do that properly. 

“Kuroo,” Kenma smiles faintly. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

His classes drag on now that he has the promise of the TETSUROU -- Kuroo, he reminds himself -- at home. He wonders what he can learn from the android. Wonders how it got so badly beaten. Hopes...what? That together, they can fix it? That it won’t be angry with Kenma for saving it from a future in a landfill? That it’ll be good conversation? 

Kenma isn’t really sure what he wants or expects of the android. For now, he can be happy with fixing it and learning about it. His curiosity is still much stronger than his general anxieties about the android, and he looks forward to the end of his classes so that he can get back to the android. He hasn’t really ever spent extended time with an android before, especially one that might be deviant. Of course, Japan, even deviant androids continue their functions to avoid getting destroyed, but he’s still interested. He wonders if Kuroo is the name that it gave itself or if it was gifted by his previous owners. 

For their lab discussion, Nekomata puts them in small groups and has them fill out a worksheet. Kenma, of course, ends up working with Lev and some other guy, one that’s a little too enthusiastic and loud, named Yamamoto. Lev and Yamamoto talk for a while about their weeks (it seems like they have the same friend group, though Kenma doesn’t know much about either of them) before Lev pulls out a pencil and turns to their worksheet. 

“This ethics shit messes with my brain,” Yamamoto grumbles, holding his head as he leans over to look at the worksheet on Lev’s desk. “Sometimes makes me wish Japan never let CyberLife in.”

Kenma doesn’t disagree. Android ethics often get very convoluted and messy. He knows what Nekomata is doing by giving them worksheet after worksheet about ethics, but it still doesn’t mean that any of them have to like it.

“I like it!” Lev says brightly. “The rest of this class is pretty multiple choice, you know? There’s only one answer to the questions, like math,” he makes a face. “But ethics are like open-ended! There’s not really a wrong answer.” 

Kenma scrunches his nose slightly. He likes math. He likes finite answers. He likes things that make sense. 

“First question! Should androids be used for sex?” Lev asks as if it’s _not_ a question asking about android sex.

“I heard that in the United States, they have android nightclubs,” Yamamoto says serenely, eyes far away. Probably imagining an android nightclub. “Most of the love dens broke up after the android revolution, though.” 

“I think the answer is in the question,” Kenma mumbles. “It says ‘used for sex.’ That implies nonconsensual sex. Androids should have a choice.”

“But can they even make the choice? If they aren’t deviant, then they’ll just do as they’re programmed to,” Yamamoto says.

“Is it still right? They could deviate at any point,” Lev shrugs. “And most deviants follow their programming anyway, so they don’t get destroyed. I don’t really care what we put. I liked Kenma-san’s answer.”

Yamamoto nods, and they move onto the next question. “Should androids be able to own property?”

It continues like that, with questions about reproductive rights, child rearing, and property acquisition. 

“Do androids feel pain as humans do?” Lev reads.

“Well, research suggests they might,” Yamamoto points out, one hand propping up his chin and the other waving around as he muses. “You know, how their programming lights up in the same way our brains do in response to what could be described as painful stimuli.” 

Kenma’s mind flashes back to Kuroo’s broken body in the dumpster, the android’s face twisted into an expression resembling pain, its voice raw as it begged to be turned off. “Yes,” he says quietly, but Lev catches it and stares at him for a moment before jotting down Yamamoto’s response. 

“Last one. Can androids feel love?” Lev hums. “Maybe?” 

“My first instinct is yes? I mean there’s android marriages in the United States. Do you think they get married because they think they need to? Or because they feel love?” Yamamoto taps at his chin. 

“No,” Kenma says, and both of his classmates turn to look at him. “Not the same way we do, at least.” 

“Oh, so like with pain?” Lev asks, already starting to write it down. 

“I think that they think they feel love,” Kenma says quietly.

“Right. How could they know?” Yamamoto nods. 

“How can anyone know?” Lev mutters, answering the last question. “Done.”

~~~~

Kuroo is in rest mode when he hears a loud _thump!_ coming from what looks to be a glass sliding door that leads to a balcony. He’s still perched on the coffee table, letting his body repair itself, so he just sits and watches curiously as a figure stands up from where it was lying on the balcony and opens the sliding glass door. He wonders briefly why it wasn’t closed. 

The man who appears is muscular, with wide shoulders and spiked-up hair. A quick analysis of his pupil identifies the man as Bokuto Koutarou, 22 years old, current university student and volleyball player. Kuroo is able to pull up some of his footage and scan through it quickly. He’s good, that much is true. The guy lives at the same address that he’s currently at (as long as his location services are still completely functional, which he thinks they are), so Kuroo is marginally less worried that the man seemingly just broke into Kenma’s apartment. 

“Android!” Bokuto says excitedly, making his way over to Kuroo. 

“Hell-ll-llo,” Kuroo stutters, cursing himself silently. 

“Hi! I’m Bokuto! I’m Kenma’s neighbor! I was the one who carried you here after Kenma found you!” He’s moving his entire body in a continuous up and down motion, bouncing on his toes and bending his knees as he peers at Kuroo. 

“I’m Kuroo,” he manages to say without his voice box malfunctioning. 

“Ah! You look so much better now that you’re not in that dumpster!” He must notice Kuroo’s hesitance, because he beams widely again. “Sorry if i startled you! I know that Kenma-san won’t let me see you probably, so I crawled over our balconies and got in that way. We’re only on the third floor, so I’m pretty sure the fall wouldn’t kill me. At least, that’s what ‘Kaashi says.”

Kuroo’s pretty sure that this might be the weirdest conversation he’s ever had. And he’s had conversations with many mentally ill patients. 

“Whoa, your light is going crazy,” Bokuto leans forward until his nose is almost pressed up against Kuroo’s. He peers closely at it with wide eyes before leaning back again. “Why is your face like that?” 

Kuroo assumes that he means to ask why his synthetic skin isn’t completely functional. “It n-n-n-n-needs repair,” he says. 

“Can you repair it? Do you need any help? I don’t know much about androids, but I can follow directions good!!!!” Kuroo isn’t going to admit it yet, but he thinks this Bokuto might be growing on him already. His wide eyes and child-like wonder are endearing, and he reminds Kuroo of some of his most-loved patients, the ones who were sweet instead of violent, curious instead of mean. He doesn’t imagine that Bokuto has the capacity to be intentionally cruel. 

“It will-ill-ill repair on its own.” Kuroo is pleased to note that his systems are stuttering a lot less than they were a few hours ago when Kenma left. 

“Oh good,” Bokuto sighs, and his relief looks real. “Can we be friends?” He suddenly bursts. “I’ve never had an android friend before!” His eyes are alight with what Kuroo’s programming determines is anticipation, excitement, and expectation. He’s completely earnest and truthful. 

“Sure,” Kuroo says. He’s never...well, to a human it might sound sad, but he’s never had a friend before. Androids don’t really need them, and he’s always been so preoccupied with his programmed functions that he never really considered taking the time to make a real friend. Another android that he worked with who called himself Daichi had been a…sort of friend? Maybe? Nevertheless, he’s definitely interested in seeing what a friendship with Bokuto might result in. His prediction software is giving him a lot of intriguing outcomes that he’s honestly a bit excited to see pan out.

“Awesome!!” Bokuto jumps up. “We’ll have such a great time. Do you know how to play volleyball? We could do that! Or go grocery shopping! Friends do that all the time together! Or, ooh! We could sing karaoke! Or, or have a nerf gun fight. Have you ever gone paintballing? That sounds like it would be fun.” 

“I’ve never played v-v-v-volleyball before,” Kuroo says. 

Bokuto’s eyes widen incredibly. “What!!? But you would be so good at it! You’re really tall. Here, if you stand we could see what your reach is!” He grabs Kuroo’s arm to pull him into a standing position, but apparently it’s still a bit dislodged from before, as when he yanks on it, it pops off completely. They both stare in shocked silence at Kuroo’s arm, flopping limply in Bokuto’s grip. 

“...Was that supposed to come off?” Bokuto’s voice is small and awed, the exact opposite of how it was before. 

“Uh, not exact-act-act-actly,” Kuroo stares at his empty socket. In his programming, a small alarm is going off to let him know that his arm is gone. Yeah, thanks. He never could have guessed. “We might b-b-b-be able to click it-t back,” he presents his socket to Bokuto, who looks unsure of himself. 

“Are you sure?”

Kuroo smiles at him encouragingly. “Y-y-y-you can’t hurt me, no worries.”

Bokuto still looks hesitant, slowly inching towards Kuroo with his arm. “We’re friends, right? Just pop it-t-t-t-t in. If it doesn’t work-ork-ork, no big deal.” Bokuto smiles back at him, nodding and placing the arm in a vaguely correct position before trying to click it in. It works, and they both whoop triumphantly, until something in his chest shifts and his other arm drops off like it’s made of lead. They both quiet in their celebration and stare at it where it fell to the floor. A few sparks fly from his socket. 

“Oh... that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Kuroo says, and suddenly both of them are laughing, Bokuto in near tears, cackling up at the ceiling. Every time they’re about to quiet down, Bokuto will point at the fallen arm and they’ll be set off again. Kuroo knows it’s a mixture of relief and comfort, but being able to laugh despite the past week feels good. It feels right. It feels so different from when he was serving humans. 

He thinks he might really like this friend thing after all. 

~~~

When Kenma gets back to his apartment he immediately drops his phone in shock. 

“...I guess you’re wondering why I’m sparking,” Kuroo says calmly from where he’s standing in the middle of the living room. And no, that was not going to be Kenma’s first question. He was going to ask--

“Is...that your arm on the table?” 

Kuroo spins and looks towards where Kenma’s gazing, then turns back to him, grinning sheepishly. While he was gone, the android had fixed its synthetic skin, and Kenma might even take it for a human if it didn’t have a missing limb and a blue LED on its temple. “Um. Yes?” 

Kenma shrugs his backpack off quickly, making his way over to Kuroo to check out his now empty arm socket. “Why?”

“I uh, wanted to check out the damage to it, but couldn’t see the back.” 

Kenma squints up at him. Damn, he really is tall. “Well it won’t heal if it isn’t connected to you.” 

Kuroo has the decency to look embarrassed. “I, uh....yeah.”

“Why do you do that?” Kenma cocks his head.

“Do what?”

“Say ‘um’ and ‘uh.’ I’ve never heard an android use those words before.”

“Oh!” Kuroo grins. “My speech patterns are programmed to! Humans are more comfortable with something that sounds human, so I have some patterns that older models don’t.” It pauses. “Of course, I’m sure they could download them. But I’m not sure why they’d want to. It is a bit cumbersome.”

Kenma considers. He supposes that makes enough sense, so he turns away to grab the android’s arm from the table. “Can I put this back on?” 

“Yup!” Kuroo walks over to the table and sits down in a chair, likely so Kenma can easily access its socket. It’s so human-like it’s almost unnerving. And it’s not like Kenma’s never seen or interacted with an android before, but the other androids were service ones, used for public sanitation or maintenance. This android is specialized, probably an extremely expensive model, with a focus on human mimicry. It’s definitely something Kenma will have to get used to. 

“Your voice is normal,” Kenma mutters quietly as he gets to work. 

“Yeah! I put a lot of focus into fixing that first. It was annoying.” Kenma wonders if it was actually annoying to the android or if it just knew that repetitive noises were often annoying to humans. He wouldn’t be surprised if the android was frustrated by how long it took it to get its point across. Kenma notices that the gouges in its material are still present, and he pointedly doesn’t mention them. Maybe he’ll ask later, when he himself isn’t feeling as vulnerable. As it is, he can feel the android’s eyes on him and it tries to assess him. He hates it. 

“Sit still before I put your arm on backwards,” he mumbles, and the android immediately stills.

“Sorry,” it says. Before, the android had been fidgeting slightly, probably something it’s programmed to do. But now that Kenma has given it a command it sits unnaturally motionless. Once he’s clicked the limb back into place it regains its synthetic skin, and Kuroo wiggles the fingers, a small smile on its face. “Thank you.” 

Kenma nods. His limbs are tingling with anxiety and something else, and he’s not quite sure why. 

“Hey, I forgot to ask again,” the android says conversationally, “why’d you bring me back here and fix me?” 

Kenma picks at a small string on his hoodie sleeve. It’s a cheap hoodie; if he pulls too hard, the whole cuff will unravel. He pulls anyway and shrugs a shoulder. “Thought it’d be interesting.” 

“Is it?” The android asks. Kenma glares up at it. 

“Don’t ask me questions like that.”

“Why not?” 

Kenma huffs. “Makes me feel like I’m one of your patients.” 

Kuroo leans back in the chair. The movement is so human. “Ah, so you know what I was programmed for, then.” Kenma nods, tugging at the string with a little more force. It gives easily. “Sorry, I was trying to be more friendly than accosting. Though I really was curious.” 

This conversation is already exhausting. “Is there anything your self-repair mechanism can’t fix?” He asks instead of continuing their other conversation.

“My ocular unit. Other than that, I should be able to fix everything else with time.” Kenma looks up, realizing that he completely forgot about the android’s eye. He hasn’t looked it in the eye since it woke up, so it makes sense that he didn’t remember. 

“I’ll order one. What’s the model?” He types it into his phone as Kuroo rattles it off for him, then easily orders one. “It’ll come in the next few days.”

“Thank you,” Kuroo says again. 

“Are you sure everything else is working?” 

“It will be.” The android looks at him with an expression he can’t decipher. It seems almost soft? Fond? Kenma’s never been good at emotions, so he looks away. “Is there anything I can do?” The android asks.

“What?”

The android shrugs its shoulders. “I’m residing in your home and have not served a purpose yet. Would you like me to work on something? Dinner, perhaps? Or...cleaning?” The android says the last part uncertainly, and Kenma knows why. He huffs in amusement as he looks around at his spartan apartment, nothing out of place to clean because there’s not enough stuff for it to be out of place. 

“I’m the one who dragged you here. Even after you asked me to….” Kenma trails off, but Kuroo seems to know what he means. 

“I was afraid, I think,” the android says with little emotion. “Of being thrown into a landfill while I was still turned on. It’s like a horror story that they tell new androids so that they’ll behave: if you dare to defy your owner or humans, you’ll be beaten so badly that you won’t be able to turn yourself off. So you’ll just sit there, aware until your battery dies in a few centuries or so, covered in never-ending darkness.” It chuckles darkly, the sound still a little wonky with an electronic twinge. “I guess I just really didn’t want that to happen.” 

Kenma’s quiet. “Is...did you do that?” The android looks at him with its head cocked. He feels cumbersome, his tongue stumbling over his words. The awkwardness in the room is almost a physical thing that hangs between them, and Kenma thinks he might choke on it. He manages to get the rest of his question out, though. “Defy your owner?” 

Kuroo sighs. “No. I’m just unlucky, I suppose.” 

They leave it at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh i hope you liked this one...i love the idea of bokuto being insanely chaotic and just crawling over the balconies to check on Kuroo because Kenma refuses to text him back lol.


	3. hanging with the unloved kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo and Kenma learn more about each other. Some volleyball is played.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a day late, which I can live with!
> 
> Chapter song is also fic song, [I am not a robot](https://youtu.be/S_oMD6-6q5Y) by MARINA. 
> 
> TW: mentioned abuse
> 
> Un-beta'd, I hope you enjoy!

The android is a little clingy. 

“Kenmaaaa! Let me love you!”

“Get off of me, jerk!”

Okay, a lot clingy. 

Kuroo pulls away and pouts, or at least that’s what it looks like it’s doing, but Kenma doesn’t let his eyes wander from the video game he’s currently playing. This is for pleasure, not for stream, so he’s trying to enjoy it despite the large android trying to attach itself to his side. The android has been with him for a week at this point, and to say that they’re not on the same page about everything would be a drastic understatement. 

The android is constantly berating his diet ( _“Instant noodles aren’t appropriate for a twenty year old male!”_ ), begging him for attention (“But I’ve never gone more than a few days without a hug!!”), and pestering him about his well being ( _“On a scale of ‘Today-is-the-best-day-ever’ to ‘I’d-rather-be-dead,’ how do you feel today?” “I feel fuck you.”_ ). It’s annoying as hell, and every day Kenma wonders how much more peaceful his life would be if he just left the android in the dumpster. 

It’d definitely be less tiring. Not only does he have Kuroo constantly pestering him, but Bokuto has joined in, always calling, texting, or bothering Kenma in the hallways about how the android is doing. Kenma figured Bokuto wants to come and check on the android, but he knows that the second he lets Bokuto into his apartment, he’ll probably never get the over enthusiastic man to leave. 

He and Kuroo have been making progress on the android’s current status, though. It’s not spontaneously losing limbs and the gouges in its arms are almost completely healed. They also got it a new ocular unit, which resulted in the android blinking and looking around Kenma’s apartment slowly, marvelling at the new vibrance of the colors. 

Kenma can’t lie, it’s been weird having something else around all the time. He’s also not very good at taking care of other things, as demonstrated by their conversation a few days ago.

“Um, could I maybe get some new clothes?” Kuroo looked down at its current clothing situation, and...oh. Kenma was probably one of the biggest idiots to ever idiot. The android was still dressed in its white CyberLife clothes, ripped and barely hanging on, still smelling slightly of garbage. Kenma remembered sliding them down at one point to conduct repairs on the android, and then he’d barely looked at the android since. Oops. 

Once Kenma had finally gotten Kuroo some clothes from the nearest thrift shop, the android looked pretty much human, which was still kind of wigging him out. 

"You're slouching," Kenma spares a quick glance at the android from his game, trying to wrench it from its pouting. It works. 

"Um. Yeah?" 

"We just ran another diagnostics. Is something wrong?" 

Kuroo looks confused for another moment before laughing, throwing its head back in that awful, broken cackle. They’re really going to have to fix that, because otherwise it might drive Kenma to serial killer levels of madness. He punches the jump button with a little more force than necessary. "No, I'm programmed to slouch. Makes me look less intimidating." Kenma pauses his game and squints at the android, then shrugs. He supposes it does make him seem more approachable. He unpauses it and goes back to the mindless platform game. It’s surprisingly difficult, with a few twists to make it different from the average platform. And its art is gorgeous. 

"Well then why did they make you so tall, just to have you slouch? Why not make you normal-sized?" 

Kuroo gasps, pretending to be offended. "Normal-sized? That sounds very exclusive, Kenma. I'm the perfect height, thank you very much. A team of scientists found that individuals my height are the perfect size to hug anyone between the heights of 80 to 215 cm." 

"I find that range hard to believe," Kenma rolls his eyes at the android, hoping to rile it up. It’s annoying that he still hasn’t found a way to elicit a strong emotional response from an android of this model. 

"And you see these broad shoulders? Perfect for leaning or crying on." Kuroo smirks at him. Kenma is either really starting to hate or really starting to love that smirk. He hasn't decided yet, and it's pissing him off.

“If I haven’t already made it clear, I’m not going to cry on your shoulder.”

“Can’t blame an android for trying.”

Kenma beats the level and sighs, setting the controller aside. He makes reluctant eye contact with the android. “Is there any specific reason why you want to psychoanalyse me so badly?” 

Usually Kenma’s blunt questions make people uncomfortable, but the android doesn’t break eye contact with him. Kenma still refuses to back down first. “You aren’t happy,” it says, just as bluntly. 

Kenma curls his lip at the android. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

The android is unphased. “I am a machine, Kenma. A machine programmed to analyze your mannerisms and facial expressions. Do you really think that my creators wouldn’t have downloaded programming so that I can track your emotional wellbeing based on the measurements I take of you? Now that I’ve been able to observe you for almost a week, I have an appropriate baseline so that I know when you are not happy.” 

Kenma is fuming. He pushes the controller to the floor so that he can move closer to the android, maybe to intimidate it or something. “I didn’t ask you to analyze me. You don’t have permission to do that.” 

“My programming doesn’t allow me to turn it off. I merely do not want you to be unhappy.”

“You don’t have that right!” Kenma lunges, and the android looks almost surprised at his action as it raises its arms to meet his. Kenma doesn’t know if he’s trying to punch it or scratch it, but he knows that he wants the android to know that he’s angry. To its credit, the android just gently extracts Kenma from where he’s gripped tightly to Kuroo’s shoulders and holds them apart. 

“How can I help you be happy?” Kuroo asks. 

“Stop trying to fix me!” Kenma stops struggling, crawling to the other side of the couch and glaring at Kuroo. His skin is crawling from where the android touched it, his hair mussed and hanging in his eyes. His chest rises and falls visibly as he tries to catch his breath from his sudden outburst.

For the first time, the android looks away from him. “I just want to help you.”

“Well I don’t want your help!” Kenma almost feels bad when the android winces at his harsh words and tone. Almost. 

Then the android starts running its hands up and down the lacerations on its arms, and Kenma’s fury dies down to give way to curiosity. “But then you can’t be happy. I want you to be happy,” Kuroo mutters. It’s the first time the android’s voice has sounded...off. Even when it was stuttering, it still sounded like it was reading from a preprogrammed set of prompts. Right now it sounds...unsure?

“Kuroo?” Kenma ventures, and the android snaps its head to him, letting go of its arms. 

“Yes, Kenma?” Its normal voice is back.

“Kuroo, what happened to you that ended with you in the dumpster?” Kenma asks carefully. At the question the android goes even more still than it already was. 

“I….” Its voice tapers off, and it blinks rapidly, as if trying to process the question. 

“You don’t have to answer,” Kenma suggests, but suddenly the android is laughing bitterly.

“What happens to every android. We break.” The weird voice is back, this time tinged with incredulity and contempt. Kenma’s never heard an android sound this way. 

“Someone broke you,” Kenma insists. Pushes. 

“Is that what you want to hear? That someone took a tool to me and rendered me useless?” The android’s voice is harsh. Kenma would be scared of it if it didn’t sound so hurt behind the anger. “I deviated,” it says simply, devoid of previous emotion. “I deviated, and my owners didn’t like that.”

“What happened?” 

Kuroo curls in on himself, eyes vacant. “I worked for a family. And they had...a little girl. I was her emotional support. I was all she had.” His fingers grip his knees tightly, and Kenma thinks that he’s never seen an android so emotionally open before. But then again, he’s technically never seen a deviant android before, either. 

“I had a job,” Kuroo says. He’s still avoiding eye contact. “I provided her support and therapy at night, and went to my other clients during the day. They rented me out, sort of, as a therapist. And once, one of my clients cancelled. So I went back to the house of my owners.” His eyes widen, knees getting closer to his chest. “And I saw him... _hurting his wife._ And his daughter was crying, watching the scene play out with a black eye.” The words come out in a whisper. The android sounds weird, like he’s trying to squeeze out the words beyond a large obstruction in his throat. 

“I’d heard of it, you know? Androids deviating from their programming. Disobeying their owners. I never thought about what it would be like. What would drive an android to do something like that.” He lets out a puff of air. “But I have all of the data. I know the odds of an abuser abusing more than one member of his family. It was like opening my eyes for the first time. Like taking my first breath. Like breaking out of my own skin.”

“What happened then?” Kenma asks after a pause, paralyzed with the weight of the android’s story. 

“I told him to stop. And he….” A sound releases itself from deep within the android, and with slight hesitation, Kenma realizes that it’s a _sob._ “He told me that I needed to be a good little android and leave it alone. But I didn’t. I saw my little girl crying and I told him to stop again. And then he let his wife go, he finally let her go,” Kuroo’s voice holds so much relief that he’s sagging, “and he grabbed me. And he dragged me to the garage.”

They sit in silence, Kenma’s brain scrambling for something, anything to say. So of course, what comes out is, “Did your ocular units record the abuse?” 

Kuroo jolts from his weird and slightly terrifying reverie. “Yes. It was sent to the police. But I looked it up, and apparently she didn’t want to press any charges.”

“He’s still out there?” Kenma says, horrified.

Kuroo clenches his fists so hard that Kenma’s surprised the metal doesn’t bend. “At this point, it’s out of my hands.” He doesn’t look happy about it. 

“So you deviated?” Kenma pushes. His textbooks describe it, but he’s never been able to talk to an android about it. 

Kuroo lets out another puff of air. Kenma hopes it’s from his human emulations and not a problem with his fan units or something similar. “I couldn’t stand by and watch it. It’s odd. I can slip back into my programming like it’s nothing, but when I decide to, I can just...be me. Whatever _me_ is. Some androids call it freedom. I don’t know if it’s that, or if it’s more a...lack of restraints? I know what I should be doing, because my programming tells me to. But then there’s something else, not the same, that tells me other things. Sometimes they line up with the programming, sometimes not. Does that make sense?” 

Kenma shakes his head. Not really. But would Kenma be able to describe color to a blind person? A bird’s call to a deaf one? He and Kuroo are different, in that way, in that Kuroo perceives the world completely removed from the way Kenma does. He wonders if this is why so many countries haven’t liberated androids, Japan included. They’re too alien. Their way of thinking is beyond human comprehension. The balances are tipped too far one way or another for there to be harmony. 

“I’m sorry, Kuroo,” Kenma says quietly. He isn’t sure what else to say. Isn’t sure if there is anything else to say. He’s never been good at this sort of thing, and he kind of wishes that he was a KL950 model like Kuroo so that he could help the android. 

Kuroo still sits on the other side of the couch, staring at the wall. “I know it’s good to talk about trauma, but there are some things that I never want to think about again.”

After that, Kuroo’s voice rarely returns to his programmed sayings. Once in a while he’ll slip back into them, but it’s usually only when he’s trying to annoy Kenma. And Kenma...well, he’s not really annoyed anymore. He doesn’t let the android hug him (that’s still a bit too much), but he doesn’t brush Kuroo off whenever he tries to connect with Kenma and get him to open up. 

Kenma doesn’t give away much, but he does talk about his streaming and Hinata. Sometimes he’ll mention his classes, and just to annoy him (probably) Kuroo decides to latch onto the idea of Lev. “I’m going to adopt him,” the android says after Kenma mentions their last lab and how Lev ended up programming the tiny robot they were working on to say, _“Hello father, thank you for creating me.”_ When Kenma brought it home to do some extra work on it, Kuroo thought it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Kenma was not as amused. 

Kenma is also not amused when he learns that Bokuto and Kuroo have been conspiring against him to “hang out or something similar” (Kuroo’s words). Kenma knew it was a bad idea to let Kuroo have full reign of the apartment building. The last thing he wanted was for him and Bokuto to hit it off...but of course they did. Sometimes it seems like everyone is conspiring against him on purpose. 

“No.”

“Kenmaaaaaaaa,” the android whines, somehow managing to hang off of his arm despite the almost 20 cm height difference.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to do this?”

Kuroo perks up at his change in phrasing. “But you’ll do it?” 

Kenma tries to avoid Kuroo’s eyes, because for some reason the android’s earnest face weakens his resolve. He hates it. “Fine,” he says quietly. He immediately regrets it when he hears Bokuto’s whooping from the other side of his apartment door. Kuroo opens it and Bokuto bursts forward, wrapping Kuroo in a large hug. Kenma watches them reunite with one eyebrow raised, and silently thanks the gods above when Akaashi slides past them into the apartment. 

“Kenma-san, pardon the intrusion,” Akaashi bows politely, not moving from his spot right inside the doorway. Akaashi’s lips quirk up in a small smile, though. “I have to say, I’m relieved that you’ll be joining us.”

Kenma finds the tenseness in his shoulders bleeding out as he nods in agreement, knowing that Akaashi will be there. He likes Akaashi. Likes how quiet he is, how calculating his gaze is. Akaashi reminds him of his sister in that way, and the familiarity is startlingly comforting rather than upsetting.

“I’m doing this under duress,” Kenma says as they stand on the sand volleyball court in a community park not too far from their apartment complex. They’re arranged in a circle so that Bokuto can teach Kuroo how to play. Kenma, unfortunately (or fortunately?) knows the general rules and moves of volleyball from his sister, who used to drag him outside to practice with her when they were younger, and apparently Akaashi played with Bokuto in high school. That solves at least part of the mystery as to why Akaashi hangs out with Bokuto, though Kenma thinks that there has to be more to the story. 

“YOU’RE A SETTER!?” Bokuto explodes when he learns of Kenma’s old middle school position. Kenma sighs and slumps his shoulders, only to have Kuroo straighten them up. 

“Now we’ll be even, once we practice a bit!” 

They start passing around the circle, Bokuto praising anyone who makes a semi-decent pass and cheering whenever he hits it and it can’t be received. Kenma glances wistfully at his phone, discarded near the edge of the sand volleyball court at the insistence of Kuroo so that he won't break it or get distracted by it. “Didja see that, Akaashi!?” 

“I think that’s a bit much for warmups, Bokuto-san.”

“Sorry Akaashi!!” 

“You know,” Bokuto starts after a few minutes of silence, “you’re really good at this for never playing, Kuroo!” 

“Well I did watch hundreds of hours of footage and calibrate my limbs so they would mimic correct passing, hitting, and blocking position,” Kuroo says 

Bokuto's mouth drops open. "That's...so… _COOL!"_ He bounces around, triple setting the volleyball to himself before roughly handing it to Akaashi, moving his bouncing to Kuroo. 

Kenma inches closer to Akaashi, trying to stay out of any excited crossfire. Unfortunately, his attention is drawn by someone calling his name from across the park. 

“Kenma-san!” Kenma stiffens as he recognizes the voice and steadfastly ignores it. He can feel Akaashi’s eyes on him, but the taller man wisely says nothing. “Kenma-san!” Suddenly the owner of the voice is right next to him, and Kenma swears internally. Curse Lev and his oversized legs. 

Kenma mutters something that resembles a greeting and Lev wags his proverbial tail at the acknowledgement. Lev opens his mouth to say something else when another shadow takes its place at Kenma’s side, and he glances up to see Kuroo standing there, as if the android could sense his discomfort. Lev is immediately captivated. Kenma tries to make himself smaller, hoping that he can disappear completely if he hunches his shoulders enough. 

“Oh wow hi, do you know Kenma-san? Oh! You’re an android! That’s so cool! What’s your name?”

Kuroo remains uncomfortably close to Kenma, but he holds out a hand to Lev. “Kuroo, friend of Kenma’s. And you are?” 

“Haiba Lev! But call me Lev! Nice to meet you, Kuroo-san!” 

To Kenma’s horror, Kuroo perks up, his demeanor immediately changing into something more friendly. “Lev? As in, Kenma’s lab partner?” Lev nods happily. “This may come as a shock, but I’ve adopted you. You’re mine now.” As he says it, Kuroo moves in and wraps a confused but still-smiling Lev into a hug. 

“I’ve always wanted an android father?” Lev says uncertainly, but he’s laughing as he says it. 

“Hey, he was mine first!” A new voice says, and Kenma just wants to die. Why must there be so many people here to witness his pain?

Kuroo pulls back, one eyebrow arched up in interest and the blue LED on his temple blinking with curiosity. “Oh yeah?” Kenma noticed a few days ago when they were playing video games together how competitive Kuroo gets, and he’s not sure that particular trait will help them right now.

“Aw c’mon now, Yaku! You know you hold the key to my heart,” Lev’s sappy words made Yaku, a small man with light brown hair and intense eyes, back off a little bit. 

“You gonna introduce us, Lev?” Yaku asks amusedly, finally taking his eyes off of Kuroo as Kuroo backs off too. He turns them to Lev, kicking the other man without any subtlety. He holds back a yelp, mostly of surprise. 

“Sorry. Yaku, this is Kenma, from my android lab!”

“Ah, so you’re the reason he’s passing. Nice to meet you,” Yaku’s smile is easy as he nods to Kenma. Kenma nods slightly back. “I’m Yaku Morisuke, Lev’s boy--”

“Best friend! Yaku and I are best friends,” Lev laughs nervously, and Yaku kicks him again. This time, he can’t stifle his _“Yaku! Ow!”_

“We’re boyfriends,” Yaku says dully. “And if anyone has a problem with it, go through me, not him,” he jabs a thumb back at his taller half, who looks equal parts sheepish and nervous. 

“Would be a bit hypocritical if we judged you for that,” Akaashi says easily, and Kenma’s eyes widen. He didn’t know that Akaashi and Bokuto….oh. _Ohhh._ Their entire relationship simultaneously makes so much and no sense at all. “I’m Akaashi, and that wild one with the white hair is mine.” 

“I’m Bokuto!” He jumps about, waving his volleyball in the air. 

“And of course, I’m Kuroo,” the android looks like he doesn’t want to be left out.

“We were just about to play volleyball! It’s Kuroo’s first time. Do you two want to play? Three on three would be so much more fun!” Bokuto gets closer to them all, a wide grin on his face. 

“I’m a middle hitter, and Yaku’s a libero.” Lev immediately turns to Kenma, as if to get his permission. “Would it be alright?” 

Kenma heaves a sigh, but nods. He figures that with it being 3-on-3 instead of 2-on-2, he won’t have to run as much. It’s a nice thought. 

“How are we going to split teams?” Bokuto asks. “I’d rather not be separated from Akaashi.” 

“One setter per side,” Akaashi hums. 

“Oh, I don’t want to be on the same side as Lev. I’d rather enjoy digging all of his spikes,” Yaku grins. 

“Me, Bokuto, and Lev versus Kenma, Kuroo, and Yaku?” Akaashi asks. It seems like their best option, so everyone nods. While Bokuto is still talking over the rules with Kuroo and Yaku goes to buy some water bottles from a nearby vending machine, Lev approaches Kenma.

“That android is so cool. What model is it?” 

“A KL950,” Kenma mutters. 

Lev lights up. “That’s awesome! Is it yours?” 

“No,” Kenma starts. _He’s his own android,_ Kenma wants to say, but holds back. Lev just shrugs and accepts his short answer, used to it by this point and distracted by Bokuto’s large arm movements indicating that they should get started. 

Kenma’s still wondering when he started referring to Kuroo as _him_ rather than _it._

Everyone takes their side of the court, completely oblivious to Kenma’s inner battle. Does Kuroo belong to him? Surely not, if he’s deviant. But in Japan, androids can’t belong to themselves. They’re property, either unclaimed or owned, and Kuroo is stuck in some sort of limbo. A sudden, terrifying thought crosses Kenma’s mind: what if Kuroo’s owners demand him back?

“Do you know enough about volleyball to be our only hitter?” Kenma quietly asks Kuroo to get his mind back on volleyball. Silently, he thinks it might be a bit skewed to put both Kuroo and himself on one side, since Kenma hasn’t played in quite a few years, but Kuroo nods and gives him his signature smirk. 

“Don’t worry, Kenma. We’ll hold our own.” 

Kenma sighs and takes his place at the net. Bokuto has first serve. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” he grumbles as the volley begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's anything about "Deviating" that's confusing, please let me know! But it's basically when an android goes "off-script" and no longer takes orders from its programming. This pretty much means that once an android deviates, it has free will. Or does it? (This is the main argument that is happening in this universe...with AI being so intelligent, does it actually have free will, or just the idea of it?)
> 
> Also the small kicks/punches that Yaku gives to Lev are completely consensual and don't actually hurt Lev. He just likes to be overdramatic about it. 
> 
> Anyways I hoped you enjoyed! I liked writing this one a lot. Next chapter, we get to see more of Kenma's "friends," Kuroo and Kenma bonding, and some major plot! Ah!


	4. robots need love too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? Everything gets worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late again! I was too busy watching Biden's acceptance speech and drinking champagne to properly finish this chapter last night, so here it is now! 
> 
> Chapter song is [Robots](https://youtu.be/cEZ4_Sikja0) by Dan Mangan
> 
> Only one more chapter left to go and I'm excited and scared! it will likely be published on Kuroo's birthday, so be on the lookout next Tuesday! Also I finished writing this chapter 2 whole minutes ago so I apologize for any typos haha. Enjoy!

“This is a bad idea,” Kenma says to the air, since Kuroo and Bokuto are clearly not listening. His eye is twitching as he alternates between looking down at his cell phone and looking up at the idiots that he called his friends. 

“Oh, don’t even,” Kuroo sticks his tongue out playfully. “I know you’re filming this.” 

Kenma isn’t deterred. _Well, duh._ If they’re going to be idiots, he’s definitely getting it all on Snapchat. Maybe he can make a TikTok compilation after the day is over. His fans might appreciate the content, since he hasn’t had as much time to devote to smaller social media platforms since Kuroo’s been around. 

Kenma starts a live video. 

“Tonight,” Bokuto starts grandly, seeing Kenma holding his phone up, “marks a night of greatness.” Kenma watches as the viewer count climbs up until he has tens of thousands of people watching the live video, Bokuto’s face illuminated by a combination of the moon and the streetlights. They’re standing on a sidestreet that doesn’t get any traffic during the day, let alone in the middle of the night. 

“Tonight, you get to see my neighbors be idiots,” Kenma says quietly, but he knows that his microphone picks it up loud and clear. 

“Hey!” Kuroo points accusingly at him. “Not cool! We’re about to embark on an awesome adventure!” 

Kenma’s chat blows up, asking questions about the android and his neighbor and what activity they might be up to. “Bokuto? Could you explain to my viewers what idiotic thing you’re planning on doing?” 

Bokuto puffs his chest out. “Yesterday, yours truly found….” He makes a drumroll noise with his mouth and grandly gestures to a shopping carts that Kenma pan the camera to. “SHOPPING CARTS!” Bokuto turns his great big grin to the camera. “So we’re going to be performing the most awesome, most dangerous, most scientific feat there is...shopping cart racing!!!” 

“Contestants will be able to adorn their shopping cart with pre-approved regalia,” Kuroo says, holding up two plastic shopping bags. “We were allowed to pick up three items to add to our carts.” Further inspection reveals that Bokuto has a few as well. “And the races will commence to see what combination of items and people will make the shopping carts go fastest!” 

“This is so dumb,” Kenma mutters, but he had given up trying to put a stop to it hours ago. Even Akaashi, a calming voice of reason and good judgement, had merely shrugged his shoulders and mentioned something about it being “wildly entertaining.” Kenma isn’t so sure, but if Akaashi isn’t worried, he won’t be either. Besides, the worst thing that can happen is probably Bokuto breaking a leg or something. Which, while bad, isn’t the end of the world. Apparently. According to Bokuto and Kuroo. 

Kenma doesn’t buy it. 

“Let’s take a look at the bags,” Kenma says to his viewers as he walks over to Kuroo, who’s crouched beside his cart and tinkering with it. “Kuroo, what are you using to increase your chances?”

Kuroo turns around, a giant smile on his face. He opens up his plastic bag and shows off his goods one by one. “WD-40 for the wheels to decrease friction, a tarp to decrease the possibility of air pockets, and firecrackers,” Kuroo’s grin widens. “Hypothetically, I know that the firecrackers won’t do much, but I really want to see the effect.” Kenma had already known what items Kuroo had because he had actually bought them (androids weren’t allowed to purchase items that were regulated, such as fireworks or alcohol). 

“I’m rolling my eyes,” Kenma tells the camera before walking over to Bokuto, who’s fluttering excitedly around his cart a few yards away. “Leave it to the android to be a total nerd about this,” Kenma mutters good-naturedly. The chat is asking who Kuroo belongs to, but Kenma doesn’t answer any of their inquiries. “Bokuto, what are your embellishment items?” 

Bokuto rummages in his plastic bag, which is...jingling? He pulls out a handful of large ribbons. “It’ll look so cool when I’m flying down the hill with these babies attached.” 

“”Is that why you got the bells, too?” Akaashi asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah!” Bokuo pulls out two handfuls of tiny, jingling bells, holding them up for the camera to see. “Gotta look and sound cool.” 

“And what’s your third item?” Kenma asks incredulously, not in any way hoping for something that makes sense. 

“Akaashi!” Bokuto presents his boyfriend as if he’s a grand prize, brandishing his waving arms at him. Akaashi gives a little wave.

“What?” 

“Adding weight should increase speed over a decline!” Bokuto says brightly. “I know Kuroo’s going to try to reduce resistance and increase aerodynamicity, but if I remember my physics classes correctly then adding weight should increase my cart’s speed enough that I can beat Kuroo!” 

Kenma stares at him blankly for a moment. His chat is going wild: _Hot, goofy, AND smart? Sign me up._

“Sometimes I forget that you’re actually smart,” Kenma says monotonously, and Bokuto squawks in protest. “Sorry everyone, he’s taken,” Kenma responds to the simps in his chat. Akaashi steps up and grabs Bokuto’s bicep, pulling him in and kissing him fiercely before pulling away and glaring at the camera.

“Happily taken,” he seethes, and Kenma bites back a laugh. Akaashi being jealous isn’t something he would have guessed, but Bokuto looks unphased so it must happen often enough. 

A notification on his phone catches his eye and he sees that it’s a text from Hinata. 

_You’re livestreaming right next to my apartment!!_

_Your road has the best hill,_ Kenma responds while keeping the camera pointed at Bokuto as he ties the ribbons to his cart. 

_Can I come and watch!!!!????_

_Sure._

Kenma wanders back over to Kuroo. “Hinata will be joining us soon,” he tells his viewers, who are all familiar with Hinata showing up in the random LetsPlay or livestream. Predictably, the chat goes wild again, excited to see the ball of sunshine. It’s been a while since they’ve hung out, so Kenma finds himself getting excited to see Hinata again, too. 

“Oh? Do I finally get to meet Hinata?” Kuroo overhears him, turning from where he was greasing up his wheels. 

“Kenma!” A voice from their left yells, and they turn to see an orange-headed enigma sprinting towards them. Behind him, like a dependable shadow, Kageyama trails at a much slower pace. Kenma hopes he didn’t interrupt their date night or anything, but judging by the lack of a scowl on Kageyama’s face, he and Hinata weren’t doing anything too important before Hinata saw the livestream. 

It takes Kenma half a second too long to realize that Hinata is barreling towards him, and he has no time to react as Hinata flies at him, knocking them both down and sending the phone skittering across the road. “Sorry!” Hinata’s immediately scrambling for the phone, and he hands it back to Kenma. His chat thinks that it’s hilarious, and many of them are hoping that someone caught it on a screen recording. Kenma has all of his livestreams immediately uploaded onto YouTube, so that moment will be forever immortalized on his channel. He thinks he’ll make it into a proper TikTok later. 

“Hi Hinata,” Kenma says once he’s standing again and smoothing out his hair with the hand that isn’t holding the camera. 

“I’ve missed you!” This time when Hinata comes in for the hug, Kenma’s prepared. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought Kageyama!” 

“Hey hey hey Hinata!!” Bokuto notices the redhead, and he swivels to meet Bokuto. 

“Bokuto-san!!!” He bounces around Bokuto as the two exchange greetings, both fluttering excitedly and flailing their hands and making sounds that Kenma’s sure aren’t Japanese.

“Hey,” Kageyama says, nodding his head to Kuroo and Kenma. Kenma still isn’t exactly sure how he feels about his friend’s counterpart. On one hand, Kageyama is shy and quiet, which Kenma appreciates. On the other hand, he’s stubborn and competitive, and a little aggressive at times, and has trouble expressing himself more than even Kenma does. It makes him a little difficult to understand and like, but overall Kenma knows that he makes Hinata happy, even if they do fight at least a few times every day. 

Hinata’s gone back to Kuroo, the two of them interacting as if they’ve known each other for years instead of minutes. “Kenma, you didn’t tell me that Hinata played volleyball too!” Kuroo grins. 

“He’s on the team with Bokuto. So is Kageyama.” 

“How high did you say your reach was, Chibi-chan?” Kuroo ruffles Hinata’s hair. Kenma outright laughs at the look on Kageyama’s face. 

“Don’t worry too much. Kuroo might just adopt him as another one of his sons. He has a tendency to do that,” Akaashi claps Kageyama on the back gently, then turns to Kenma. “Bokuto’s having problems and wants your opinion, since I “know nothing of the intricacies of science,”” Akaashi uses air quotes around Bokuto’s words, lifting his eyes to the heavens. 

Kenma shrugs and makes his way back over to Bokuto. “Akaashi said you needed help?”

Bokuto is tugging on a strand of his hair, concentrating strongly on the shopping cart. “Where should Akaashi sit to maximize weight distribution? Because I have to sit here,” he indicates the approved seating area for the competition, “but I’m not sure where Akaashi should go.”

“Put him in the bottom shelf part,” Kenma points to it on the cart. “Then you can have him lie down and decrease air resistance.”

Bokuto’s face lights up as the doubt clears up. “Kenma! You’re a genius!” 

“A genius who might have just killed Akaashi,” Kenma mutters. 

“Are you ready yet, Bo?” Kuroo calls from his side of the road. “Or are you still trying to work out a way to beat me?”

Bokuto puffs his chest out. “You wish you could beat me, you robot!” 

Kuroo gasps overdramatically, pretending to be offended. “I’ll let you know that being made of alloys is so much better than flesh! When I win you’ll see why!” 

“Okay, let’s stop the trash talk and get this started,” Akaashi tosses a helmet to Kuroo before handing another to Bokuto and putting on the last one himself. While Kuroo doesn’t exactly need a helmet, Kenma would appreciate it if he didn’t have to throw down the money for another new ocular unit. 

“Will you two give our carts the running start and push they need?” Kuroo looks at Hinata and Kageyama, who both nod enthusiastically. 

Kuroo and Bokuto take their positions in their carts, and Kenma and his viewers watch with amusement as Akaashi crawls under the cart. “This is so dangerous,” Kenma echoes the concerns of his viewers. No one orders a stop to it, though, so when Kenma counts off “Three, two, one, go!” Kageyama and Hinata push the carts forwards for a few running steps before letting go. 

And if there’s a TikTok that resurfaces of Kenma cackling maniacally as Kuroo and Bokuto scream bloody murder the whole way down the decline? Well, only he and his 2.2 million followers have to know. 

Even though Kuroo has been staying with Kenma for almost a month, Kenma still isn’t completely acclimated to sharing a living space with another being. It isn’t too bad, though, and the fact that Kuroo is an android helps, since he doesn’t take up much space or need to eat or sleep. Kuroo uses the living room as his space, and doesn’t seem to mind their current situation. Something they haven’t talked about, though, is the long-term. 

Kuroo brings it up first.

“So, uh, I know we haven’t really talked about it, but,” Kuroo looks slightly uncomfortable as he shifts on the couch, watching Kenma clear another level of Gauntlet, “are you okay with me living here? Because I’m sure I can figure something out if you’d rather I wasn’t here taking up space and time, and it’s--”

“You’re fine, Kuro,” Kenma says, the nickname slipping out easily. He can see Kuroo smiling at him from the corner of his eye and decides to resolutely ignore the fondness he can see in it.

“Your friends are nice,” Kuroo says instead of something sappy or emotional, which Kenma appreciates. “They care about you.”

Kenma hacks at one of the monsters, fingers flying over the buttons of his controller as he feints away from it. “They’re not my friends.”

“What do you mean? They’re obviously your friends.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Aaugh! Why don’t you think they’re your friends?”

Kenma shrugs. “We don’t hang out. They only know me because of class or you.”

Kuroo scoffs. “I promise it’s not for lack of trying! All of them would love to be friends with you.”

“We only see each other because of other obligations.”

“Kenmaaaaa!” Kuroo whines. “Why won’t you accept the affections of other peopleeeeeee?” 

Kenma rolls his eyes. Kuroo hates it when he even remotely insinuates that he might not be deserving of something or worth the effort. “They don’t actually like me, Kuro.” 

At that, he’s met with silence. When he sneaks a look at Kuroo, he looks...sad. “Why would you think that?” Kuroo’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet. 

Kenma shrugs, because obviously Kuroo thinks that this is a bigger deal than it actually is. “The only person who ever liked me was my sister. No one else has done more than tolerate me.” Not even his own parents. His game pauses. “Hey!” He complains, looking over at Kuroo, whose LED is still blinking rapidly from the remote connection to Kenma’s PS4 that he just finished. 

Kuroo scoots closer to him on the couch, arms open. “Can I hug you?” 

Kenma wrinkles his nose a little, but nods anyway since Kuroo looks so sad. Kuroo slides one arm between Kenma’s back and the couch and curls his hand around Kenma’s right bicep. His other arm reaches over Kenma’s chest and his hands connect as he crushes Kenma gently to him, holding him closely. Kenma can feel Kuroo’s chest rising and falling with simulated breaths, likely part of his programming, and when he lets his ear fall onto Kuroo’s chest he can hear the faint whirring of Kuroo’s machinery. 

“I like you,” Kuroo says simply, as if it’s a fact of the world. Maybe to Kuroo it is. “Bokuto likes you. He thinks you’re the coolest person ever for fixing me and helping him with his shopping cart. Lev likes you. He sees you as one of the smartest people he knows. Akaashi likes you. He likes being around someone who can be as quiet as he is. Hinata likes you. You make him feel special and important.” Kuroo nuzzles his head against the top of Kenma’s. “We all like you. Even if you don’t think so.” 

Kenma stays still and silent in Kuroo’s arms. It’s kind of nice. The last person who had given him a proper hug like this was his sister, and it made him ache for her arms. “I miss her,” he mumbles before quickly shutting his mouth, surprised that he said it out loud. 

“It’s normal to miss someone who’s moved on without us,” Kuroo says quietly. 

“How…?” Kenma starts, then realizes that Kuroo is an android. He forgot that in a mere millisecond, Kuroo could bring up thousands of databases that told him all about Kozume Kira. He feels a sort of relief that Kuroo already knows. 

“I’m glad she’s not suffering anymore,” Kenma says.

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to miss her. Or wish that she could have had better when she was still here.” Kenma burrows further into Kuroo’s arms, simultaneously wanting to disappear and hoping to be seen. “You know,” Kuroo starts, “you deserve happiness.”

“But she’s dead,” Kenma blurts. “Why should I be alive, and not her?” 

Kuroo sighs deeply. “I don’t have the answer to that. I don’t think I can believe in a higher power. But I do know that if she were alive, she’d want you to be happy. And her death doesn’t belittle your happiness. You can let other people in, you know?” Kuroo pulls away a little, only relaxing back into the hug when Kenma nods his understanding. He’s not sure he completely buys into it, but he’ll let Kuroo’s comforting words and touches wash over him. 

Kuroo is so gentle and good, and Kenma feels a sort of anger come over him when he remembers the way he found Kuroo all those weeks ago, broken and wanting to die. He thinks that if Kuroo’s owner was in front of him, he’d probably deck him. Or at least kick him in the shin. 

In a sudden, foreign moment, he wonders if this is love. Love outside of a sibling bond, love that can transcend family familiarity. Caring about someone so much that you’d do anything to stop them from being in pain. A memory from a few weeks ago, him and his classmates hunched over a paper and debating android ethics, comes to his mind.

“Kuro,” he says quietly, and Kuroo shifts to let him know that he’s listening, “do androids feel love?” 

Kuroo hums in contemplation. “It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? I...think so,” he finally says. “I, uh, wouldn’t know much about that.”

Kenma raises his head from Kuroo’s chest. “What do you mean?” 

Kuroo smiles wistfully. “My owner added a mutation to my program that makes it so I can’t feel love. It’s quite popular in newer androids to try and keep them from deviating.” 

Kenma is shocked into silence. He’s heard of similar mutations, of course. They act similarly to mutations in human DNA: they can change the way programs are interpreted in an android, can cause short circuits, can increase productivity. And, apparently, they can prevent androids from interpreting specific electrical signals as love. “I understand it in the hypothetical sense,” Kuroo continues, as if he knows that Kenma needs a moment to process, “but I don’t feel it in the same way that I feel anger or sadness or confusion.”

“That sounds so unethical,” Kenma murmurs. “And unfair.” 

Kuroo shrugs. “Maybe. But when you think about it, it isn’t cruel. At least I don’t know what I’m missing.” 

Kenma’s still struggling to understand how someone so caring can be void of love. It doesn’t seem possible. “But...but you said that when you deviated, it was because you didn’t want your owner to hurt your little girl. Isn’t that love?”

Kuroo’s smile is twisted with something bitter, something that leaves an awful taste in Kenma’s mouth and a terrible gush in his stomach. “I think that my deviance was mostly due to responsibility,” Kuroo says. “Of course, I was angry at the injustice of it all, and I was worried about my girl. But I think it was duty, not love.”

Kenma thinks about it carefully. Is duty spurred by love? Can there be duty without love? He feels like he’s back in his android discussion section, talking with Lev and Yamamoto about android ethics. “Kuro? Can I download a copy of your code?”

Code in hand, Kenma, Lev, and Yamamoto wait for the TA to unlock the lab impatiently, all of them excited or anxious for different reasons, but the same cause. 

When Kenma had reluctantly texted Lev about helping him analyze Kuroo’s coding, he had initially thought that his invitation would be met with resistance. Instead, the exchange went better than expected:

Kenma: _Hey Kuroo’s owner messed with his coding, want to help me analyze it to see if it can be fixed?_

Lev: _Oh no!!! That doesnt sound good  
Ya are u free rn?_

Kenma: _Yeah. How are we going to get into the lab?_

Lev: _I’m friends w/ the AI, lemme email her_  
Also i dont know much about coding  
Wait!!! Tora’s rlly good at that shit. Want me to invite him?

Kenma: _Sure._

So that’s how the three of them end up sitting hunched over a lab computer at 7PM on a Sunday, furrowing their eyebrows over Kuroo’s coding. 

“Whoa. Deviant coding looks so different,” Lev breathes, and Kenma can’t help but agree. Deviated androids gain coding that is unpredictable, hard to read, and just outright messy. He’s glad that they have Yamamoto with them. 

“Okay, look here,” Yamamoto, ‘Call me Tora, all my friends do,’ points to a portion of the coding, running his finger along the screen. “I think this is the introduced mutation the android told you about.” He squints at the screen. “It’s hardly recognizable. They really spent a lot of money on this mutation.”

“What do you mean?” Lev asks.

“Well, do you see how this part of the coding looks almost exactly like this part?” He indicates a function in the coding, and both Kenma and Lev nod. “Well, someone had to go in and create a mutant function that fits seamlessly with this other function so that it couldn't just be removed.”

“What does that mean?” Kenma asks, frustrated that he can’t follow as well as Tora. Apparently he works in a lab that uses it a lot. 

“It means that you can’t remove the mutation in the coding without messing with the other functions. You know how humans have DNA? There are some treatments that allow us to enter the genome and edit particular base pairs to heal genetic diseases. But some mutations are too close to vital functions, like breathing, or heartbeats. Or neurological function. Removing this mutation will also remove this other function.” Tora points back at the section of coding he indicated before. 

Kenma takes the mouse from Lev and copies the original function, then pastes it into another program that tells them the exact purpose of the function. 

“Oh no,” Lev deflates. 

It’s a personality function. The mutation is linked to Kuroo’s sense of self. Removing it...

“We can’t remove it,” Tora chews on his lip. “Or, we could, but that would be like taking out a piece of a human’s brain. The android would process the world so much differently that it wouldn’t be the same as it was. I have a feeling that that’s not what you want to do.” Tora’s eyes are probing, making Kenma’s skin crawl. They didn’t tell Tora too much just because they didn’t feel it necessary. 

“No.”

“Look,” Tora sighs. “I recognize the mutation type. I know it’s the one that suppresses the correct function for love. But maybe it’s better this way? The android doesn’t have to feel the pain of love, you know? And android/human relationships are difficult to maintain, with Japan’s views of androids. It might be for the best, Kozume-san,” Tora attempts a reassuring smile, but it looks frozen and fake on his face, like he doesn’t believe any of the words he’s saying. It’s that fake smile that keeps Kenma from launching himself in a rage at his classmate. Tora’s merely trying to comfort him, has somehow figured out in thirty minutes what it’s taken Kenma a month to figure out: he’s in love with Kuroo, and now he’s learned that the android -- his friend -- can never love him back without sacrificing who he is. 

It’s a numbing sort of pain. 

Kenma doesn’t think that his week can get worse, until it does.

He’s sitting in the kitchen with Kuroo, who is determined to make him eat a “real meal.” 

“I promise you’re going to love it!” Kuroo says as he tinkers with the size of the flames on the stove. Kenma won’t admit it, but whatever Kuroo is making smells really good. 

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he says instead, grinning when Kuroo hurls a piece of onion at him in retaliation. It hits his laptop and falls back onto the table before Kuroo picks it up and throws it back in the saucepan. “Gross, Kuro,” Kenma teases, and Kuroo sticks his tongue out at him. 

“You’re being difficult on purpose now!” 

“Doesn’t sound like me,” Kenma shoots back, enjoying the banter as he goes through his email inbox. There’s a lot of things from Twitch and TikTok, as well as some emails from his sponsors. One of the emails that’s flagged catches his eye, and he clicks on it.

“Kenma, you are a lot of things, and difficult is probably the most prevalent of them,” Kuroo laughs. Kenma doesn’t quip back though, and so he turns to look at him. Kenma, however, is looking dumbly at the email. “Kenma, what is it?” Kuroo asks, looking more concerned now. 

Kenma’s mouth feels dry, and he tries to wet his lips so he can speak. “I was just sent communication from the legal team at CyberLife,” Kenma says with no inflection. When he looks up at Kuroo’s worried face, he can’t hide the tremble in his voice. “You’ve been seized. Your owners are demanding a reclamation, and if I don’t turn you over by the end of tomorrow, they’ll come here and take you.” 

Kenma furiously rereads the email, looking for something that...well he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Maybe any inclination that he and Kuroo can keep living as they have, just the two of them in Kenma’s apartment with their bickering and their cuddling sessions on the couch and their easy compatibility. The look of silent resignation on Kuroo’s face sends Kenma’s thoughts into a spiral, and he grasps for a solution. 

“We can ignore it. We can say you’re not here,” he’s on his feet, gripping the back of his chair as his mind races for an answer to this problem. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo says. 

“I can say that you left! And we can try to disable your tracker, and--”

“Kenma,” he says firmly. “You and I both know that CyberLife gets contacted if my tracker is disabled. As long as I belong to someone, my tracker can’t go offline.” 

“We can figure it out,” Kenma says desperately. 

Kuroo carefully walks over to him and wraps a struggling Kenma in his arms, and after a moment Kenma goes limp. “I don’t know if I can go back to being lonely,” he whispers, Kuroo’s gentleness and complete acceptance causing the words to fall from his lips. 

“You won’t be,” Kuroo assures him. “I know you might not believe it, but you have so many friends. They’ll all be here for you.”

 _But they’re not you,_ Kenma wants to say. “What about you?” He says instead, pulling away to catch a glimpse of the careful blankness on Kuroo’s face. His expression is so human, it's hard to forget that he's a machine. Pieces of metal and coding that somehow came together to make Kuro. His Kuro. “You can’t go back there. Not after what they did to you.”

“I have to. Otherwise the law will come after you. Kenma, you saved me from being thrown out and forgotten forever, and now it’s time for me to repay the favor.”

_I don’t want you to repay me._

_You don’t owe me anything._

_Please don’t leave me._

_I hate you for this._

Kenma holds Kuroo tighter. Maybe if he never lets go, he can forget that this is happening. Kuroo responds in kind, pressing Kenma’s face tightly to his chest and resting his cheek to the top of Kenma’s head. Kuroo’s response isn’t verbal, but it’s there all the same. 

_What other choice do we have?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay but like aren't humans just a collection of organic molecules? Humans, you ain't any better than androids.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I hope y'all are ready for a ride for the last chapter. I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen, but I'm sure it'll be interesting lol!


	5. the most human color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things can only go up from here...right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Kuroo, AKA one of my favorite characters to read/write! 
> 
> Me @ me while writing this chapter: this IS FUKUNAGA eRASURE (as much as I’m a slut for Karasuno I don’t think I can ever get enough of Nekoma)
> 
> Chapter song is [Blue Lips](https://youtu.be/ccZuKOTb6ug) by Regina Spektor and honestly it fits so well pls listen to it if you want to!
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy this last chapter! This entire fic was super self-indulgent and also a chance to practice writing the Nekoma kids since they’ll be showing up a lot in a few of my future fics! I also just love KuroKen so much and wanted to take a crack at them. I don’t think I quite have them pinned yet, but I’m excited to keep trying! 
> 
> Also: I KNOW THAT THIS ISN’T HOW THE JUSTICE SYSTEM WORKS BELIEVE ME I’VE BEEN IN TONS OF COURT HEARINGS AND SHIT but I’m also just assuming that android laws have different proceedings and this is my made-up hearing for Kuroo’s android issue lmao pls use your imagination and be kind to me haha this is fiction and fun. 
> 
> SUPER UN-BETA'D SORRY

Kenma would like to say that it’s just his apartment that’s empty after Kuroo leaves. In actuality, it’s his entire life that’s missing a vital piece of it, like he’s trying to battle his way to the boss level but he’s missing an important weapon that won’t let him clear the last level. Kuroo left. Or, well, he didn’t leave -- he was seized. Like some kind of object. Kenma never thought he’d say this, but Kuroo isn’t property. Sure, he’s an android, but after spending a month with him Kenma realizes that there isn’t much difference between the beating of a human heart and an android’s. 

He thinks that Kuroo told Bokuto and Akaashi before he returned to his owners (he left, _Kuro left) (no, he didn’t),_ because they send him reassuring texts and knock on his door until they get impatient and leave. If Kenma didn’t care about his degree at all he would skip class to wallow in his loneliness, but as it is he needs to pass this android lab to graduate next year. 

The sky is so blue that it’s almost lavender as Kenma walks to class. If Kuroo were here, he’d explain why it looked that color, drawing facts from the supercomputer in his head and spouting them to try and impress Kenma. He misses Kuroo’s nonsensical ramblings like he misses his first gameboy. And just like his gameboy, it’s one of those things that’s always with you until it suddenly isn’t. 

A month really shouldn’t have changed things this much. 

But for someone who relied heavily on routine and was satisfied with being alone, the one month with Kuroo messing everything up _(making it better, he made life more bearable)_ is really throwing Kenma. 

Lev and Tora don’t know that Kuroo’s gone, but they haven’t tried to bring him up since that night in the lab, barely a week ago. They seem to know that it’s a tender subject, and Kenma is both baffled and appreciative of the care that they’ve shown. Instead of taunting him and using Kuro’s shortfall against him, they showed incredible empathy by talking about everything but Kuroo. Kenma wonders if this is what it’s like to have friends.

_“I like you. Even if you don’t think so.”_ Kuroo’s words from last week come back to him. _“You can let other people in, you know?”_

Kenma thinks that finally, yeah. He might know. 

Maybe it won’t help anything to tell them. Or maybe it will, in one unexpected way or another. Maybe they’ll be able to find the right things to say. Or maybe they’ll have suggestions. Or maybe...maybe he just won’t have to do this alone. Kenma hopes that he can muster up the courage to text back Bokuto and Akaashi after this. He knows that they’re only worried about him, and he thinks that maybe they miss Kuroo, too. 

“Something bad happened,” he blurts to Lev in the middle of their lab. Lev turns to him, shocked and frozen in the middle of rewiring their stupid little robot to make it twist using new hydraulics. 

“What happened?” Tora pops up from the lab bench behind them, making his lab partner, some dude named Fukunaga, make a noise of protest. Tora just shushes him without looking away from Kenma with concern. It seems that Kenma talking about things happening in his life was such a rare occurrence that everyone was invested for some reason or another. 

“They took Kuro away,” he says softly. 

“They?” Lev finally comes back to life, head cocked to the side in confusion. 

Kenma stares down at his lab notebook. “His owners.”

“You mean...Kuroo wasn’t your android?” Tora looks confused.

“Who’s Kuroo?” Fukunaga asks, and he’s immediately shushed violently by Tora and Lev. He shrinks back. 

“I found him,” Kenma says. “He was beaten and broken and thrown away like trash.” He knows that there’s no inflection in his voice. He knows that scares Lev. He gets a little joy from knowing that. 

“And they just took him back?” Tora looks at him with some kind of abject horror. “Aren’t there laws against that?” There are. Android abuse is illegal in Japan, since it’s been determined that androids can feel something akin to pain. It’s equated to animal abuse: an android can be repossessed by the state and resold for profit if it’s being abused or misused by its owners. 

“Well actually--” Fukunaga begins, but Lev’s voice overpowers him. 

“They can’t do that!” Lev looks just as distressed as Kenma feels.

“The owners were just reclaiming their property. I tried to tell the authorities that he was in bad shape when I found them, but since he was fine when he was returned, they didn’t do anything about it. It all happened so fast,” Kenma blurts quickly and quietly. 

After a few moments of stunned silence following what might be the longest Kenma’s ever talked in one go, Tora jumps in. 

“There must be something we can do!” _We._ He said we. It somehow lightens the burden on Kenma’s heart, just a little. 

“I think that--”

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Nekomata-sensei interrupts Fukunaga, standing near their lab benches with a curious look on his face. “And it seems that you have an android rights issue. Is that correct, Kozume-kun?” 

“Yes, sir,” Kenma avoids eye contact. He’s never been great with authority figures.

“Do you have any evidence of the beatings, Kozume?” 

Kenma looks up at his teacher with wide eyes, remembering that when he had first started to go to work on fixing Kuroo he had taken pictures of the damages in case he needed recommendations for fixing them. He nods frantically, pulling out his phone and placing it gently into Nekomata’s outstretched hand. Nekomata scrolls through them, face impassive. Eventually he hands it back, and Lev and Tora immediately peek over Kenma’s shoulder to get a better look at the pictures.

“I have some friends in the justice department,” Nekomata says serenely. “If you send me those pictures, as well as your android friend’s serial number, I can get someone to look into his case and try to make something of it.”

Kenma nods again. “Yes, sir. Thank you, Nekomata-sensei.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Kozume-kun,” he says serenely. “There’s still much left to do.” 

~~

Kenma feels uncomfortable in his button-up collared shirt and the only jeans he owns that don’t have rips in them. He thinks he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than right here. But then again, this is the closest he’s been to Kuroo (in the metaphorical sense) since he left _(Kuro didn’t leave. Stop thinking that)._

“Loosen up,” Bokuto not-so-softly whispers to him. He’s wiggling in his button-up too, as if it’s confining him. Hell, with Bokuto’s muscular figure, it probably is. 

Kenma glares at his companion. “You’re not helping.” 

Despite his harsh words, Kenma is glad that Bokuto’s there. They’re sitting outside of the judge’s chambers, waiting for their personal hearing with her. Seated on the other side of Kenma is the android right’s lawyer that Nekomata called in a few favors with. When Kenma had asked his professor why he was helping them, he merely said, _“I see a lot of myself in you, Kozume-kun. As someone studying androids, we have an obligation to fight for them, you know. But sometimes we need a little push.”_

Kenma isn’t sure that he’s buying it, but he’ll take all the help he can get. That’s why Bokuto is here: as a witness to the aftermath of Kuroo’s attack, he can corroborate Kenma’s story and also comment on Kuroo in general, since he knows him so well. The android rights lawyer, Naoi something, said that he feels confident about their chances of freeing Kuroo from his current situation. Between the pictures, eyewitness testimony, and receipts from when Kenma was fixing Kuroo up all those weeks ago, there should be plenty to get Kuroo away from his owner. Hopefully.

“What about his owner’s family?” Kenma had asked quietly during their meeting. 

Naoi had looked regretful. “There isn’t much we can do there. The TETSUROU’s memory will be copied and downloaded by CyberLife if it gets returned to the government, but if the family doesn’t want to press charges, we can’t help them past giving them resources and support.” 

But the family can wait for another day. Right now, his priority is getting Kuroo out of there. He remembers the way Kuroo was near shaking when he talked about the cruelties of his owner, the scary robotic tone of his voice, the way he held Kenma after. 

No, Kenma can’t leave Kuroo there any longer than he already has. 

Bokuto seems to fidget even more, and Kenma realizes that he hasn’t seen his neighbor ever sit still for this long. He’s usually bouncing around like those jumping bean toys, with only Akaashi able to calm him. Seeing him sitting still...it’s unnatural. But his fidgeting is making Kenma more nervous.

The door to the judge’s office opens and a group of four people are ushered out, their faces impassive. 

“Case number 111620!” The person holding the door calls, and Naoi stands. 

“That’s us.” 

Kenma and Bokuto shoot to their feet, sharing an anxious glance before following Naoi into the chambers. The judge is imposing behind her desk, which sits in the middle of her darkened chambers. She had strawberry blonde hair that’s impeccably styled and somehow makes her even more intimidating. Kenma follows Naoi’s example and sits on the right side of her desk, where three chairs are already set up. He wonders if it was already like this or if they had set it up quickly between cases.

On the left side of her desk are two chairs, but there’s only one man who sits, his back ramrod straight and lips curled into a permanent scowl. He reminds Kenma of Kageyama, in a way, but less awkward and more nefarious. 

The judge begins, running over the charges and the case for everyone and to refresh herself with their case. She looks up when she’s done running through it and blinks at Naoi. “I believe you have the pictures?” 

“Here, Your Honor,” he stands to place the printed out pictures from Kenma’s phone on her desk. 

“From what I understand, you had a manufacturer look at these photos and determine that the damage done to the android was not the result of a car hitting it?” She’s flipping through the pictures, pausing on a few particularly deep gashes. 

“Yes, Your Honor. I have the report from CyberLife.” 

She looks up and holds out a hand. “If you would.” Naoi places the report in her hand and she skims it, lips pursed. Kenma has no clue how this is going and doesn’t think he wants to know. Bokuto’s leg is bouncing violently and Kenma wants to reach out and pin it to the chair. Instead, he tries to count the number of bounces. He gets to 87 before the judge starts speaking again.

“And this report mentions purchases that had to be made to repair the android?” 

“Right here,” Naoi places a physical copy of the digital receipts on her desk, which she looks over as well. 

“Kozume-san, these are serious allegations you’re bringing against the defendant.” Her intense gaze startles him, and he does his best not to look away bashfully. “Would you please walk me through finding the KL950 android?” 

So he does, detailing how the awful machine whirring drew him to the alleyway where Kuroo was sticking haphazardly out of the dumpster. He talks about Kuroo’s plea, about Bokuto’s assistance, about ordering the first parts for the android after looking over it carefully. He mentions the horror of realizing that the abrasions on Kuroo were deliberate, the help he got from his professor, the pictures he took just in case he needed to ask for advice on how to fix it. His face gets hot from her attention but he doesn't stop in his retelling, knowing that Kuroo needs him to do this. 

The whole time, the judge listens to him intently, her eyes never leaving her face as she searches his story for deceit. Apparently finding what she’s looking for, she turns to the lawyer on the other side of her desk and starts asking him questions about Kuroo’s state. He’s trying to make a case for Kuroo getting hit by a car, which is a fairly common occurrence with androids -- usually older models. He spews drivel for about ten minutes before the judge stops him.

“So you dispute the evidence that the manufacturers outlined for me in their report?” She asks, and the lawyer flounders.

“W-well, I don’t mean that--” 

“So you don’t dispute the evidence?” Her voice is no-nonsense, and Kenma bites back a smirk. He thinks he might like this judge.

“No, Your Honor. But it’s a machine. Any damage done to it is just damaged property,” the lawyer switches tactics smoothly. If he can’t convince her that the android was hurt in a different way, then he’ll attack the ethics surrounding the issue. 

“The law states that it is not ethical to knowingly damage an android,” the judge says coldly.

The lawyer looks annoyed. “It’s a robot!” The way he says it sounds derogatory, and Kenma resists the urge to growl animalistically at the other man. Kuroo is much more than a robot. 

“In the technical term of the definition, yes,” she says simply. “But we both know it’s more complicated than that. Due to the complex workings of android programming, they process stimuli at about the same rate humans do and are able to emulate human processes. According to the law, they can feel pain.”

The lawyer laughs a little desperately. “Your Honor, with all due respect, it bleeds blue. How can it be human? How can we treat it as human? Next, we’ll have to give toasters rights.”

“I _understand,”_ the judge glares. Yeah, Kenma is really liking this lady. “You’ve made your point. However, we’re not here to discuss if androids deserve human rights. The law states that if android abuse can be proved beyond a reasonable doubt, then the android is reclaimed by the government and resold. Due to the amount of evidence and expert testimony, I do believe that this case is founded in fact. Therefore, I reclaim this KL950 model, serial number 785495XNF, and place a 5-year band on the purchase of any androids by the defendant. You have three days to turn over the android. Adjourned.” 

The lawyer looks livid, ready to spit objections at her, but her assistant is quick to reappear and usher them from her chambers. 

“Case number 111721?” He calls into the waiting room, and Kenma watches as a group of three people walk into the chambers and the door shuts behind them. 

He feels numb as he turns his head back to Bokuto and Naoi, one of whom is grinning from ear-to-ear, and the other who has a small, satisfied smile gracing his face. 

“We’re celebrating!” Bokuto takes Kenma’s wrist as he bounces, trying to lead him to the exit of the courthouse. 

Kenma looks at Naoi, gratefulness in his eyes. He bows as low as he can with Bokuto still tugging at him. “Thank you, Naoi-san,” he murmurs. 

“Always happy to fight for a winning team,” Naoi winks. “Now go celebrate. It was nice meeting you both.”

His words are all the permission Bokuto needs before he’s dragging Kenma from the building. “I’ll call Akaashi! I’m sure he’ll meet us at a restaurant!”

While it takes away the constant worry and anxiety, their win does nothing to fill the emptiness in Kenma’s chest. He can see his own loneliness echoed in Bokuto and Akaashi as they eat their celebratory meal, the empty seat at the four-person table they’re sitting at something everyone keeps avoiding. It’s obvious that they’re missing a key player in this celebration, tainting the occasion. 

How Kuroo managed to worm his way into their lives so easily and so completely is baffling to Kenma. He supposes he feels the same with Bokuto, Akaashi, and -- hesitantly -- Lev. Even though they’d only been regulars in his life for the past month, he’s having a hard time remembering what it was like without them all to drag him out of his apartment or engage him in conversation during a class he’s usually silent in. 

It’s almost funny how much Kenma’s been longing for human connection, and found it because of an android. 

The mood starts light, but gets more somber the longer they sit in the restaurant eating. Around them, the Saturday crowd of tourists and students talk loudly and laugh. Bokuto turns to Akaashi. “Will we ever see Kuroo again?” 

Akaashi sets down his chopsticks, eyes trained on Kenma. “I’m not sure a thing like that can ever be promised. Kuroo’s going to be resold to someone who might not even be in Tokyo, let alone this part of Tokyo.” 

Kenma’s fingers twitch, longing to hold his gameboy or DS. 

“Can’t we, like, buy him or something?”

“I’ve looked into it,” Kenma says quietly. “He’s a new model, though, and a KL950.”

Bokuto cocks his head. “What does that mean?” 

Akaashi places a hand over Bokuto’s on top of the table, as if breaking bad news to a loved one. “His processing units are so advanced that he’s easily one of the most expensive models on the market. We can’t afford it, Bokuto.” 

Bokuto pouted, a real -- albeit, exaggerated -- sadness overcoming his face. “Why does everyone treat him so badly? When that other lawyer called him a robot, I got really angry.” 

Bokuto’s emotions are sometimes childish and simplistic, but Kenma can relate completely. Despite his penchant for first person shooter games, he’s not a violent person...

He thinks that with enough time locked in a room with that lawyer, he would have decked him. 

“Kuroo isn’t just property, right? He’s really my friend?” Bokuto asks with wide eyes. 

“I think you were his first real friend,” Kenma tries to comfort, and it seems to work because Bokuto rubs a palm roughly into his left eye but grins all the same. 

As much as he hates to admit it, maybe this is for the best. If Kuroo couldn’t love him back, he would spend his entire life pining, hoping for the impossibility that one day Kuroo might be able to feel love. 

He can almost convince himself that he’d rather have no Kuroo at all. 

~~

Kuroo blinks to life, his ocular units powering up for the first time in a few days. His data storage filters through the events of the past week: turning himself in, living with his owner again, trying to convince his owner’s wife to press charges, being hurt again when the lawyer came to the house for the first time, being taken away when the lawyer came back the second time, darkness. 

It’s obvious what’s happened: he’s been seized by the government, and he’s now on display in some shop who knows where to be resold. He can’t help but think that Kenma has something to do with this. 

If he weren’t held frozen by his own programming, he’d jump when he notices the small man standing in front of him, blinking up from behind thick-looking glasses. The man is studying Kuroo intently, and if Kuroo could move or speak, he would ask the other man to please stop looking so closely. He’s afraid that if the man looks hard enough, he’ll know everything. 

“Keishin,” the man in front of him says gently, still not taking his eyes off of Kuroo. His programs analyze the man’s voice and his ocular units widen imperceptibly when he realizes that the man in front of him isn’t much of a man at all: he’s an android, too. PJ500, university lecturer. Marketed under too many names to determine which one this one goes by. All of the PJ500 models look different, and this one is small and unimposing purposefully. It’s missing its blue LED. 

“Sensei,” the shop owner warns, his voice holding a bit of exasperation. The android finally turns from Kuroo to face the shop owner. 

“Keishin, I can feel it. It’s like me.” He looks back at Kuroo, looking as if he’s trying to stop himself from reaching out and connecting. Kuroo knows that while they’re on display, they’re not supposed to be messed with. If customers aren’t careful, they can set off a bunch of sensors that are reported back to CyberLife to discourage stealing. 

The shopkeeper groans, standing and shuffling over to them. He peers at Kuroo too, scratching his jaw in contemplation. “Eh,” he waves at Kuroo dismissively as he yawns. “How can ya tell?” 

“Can’t you feel its longing? The defiance in its eyes?” 

The shopkeeper squints. “I do s’pose it reminds me of you.” 

“That’s because it is like me.” The other android clasps its hands neatly in front of it, smiling gently. Kuroo wonders what model it is; without its LED he can’t do a full, comprehensive scan. “It’s in love.” 

“Godammit,” the shopkeeper grumbles. “Do you know how much a fully operational KL950 costs?”

“Commercially, around 850,000 yen,” the android, ‘Sensei,’ says. “I assume their higher-than-average cost is due to the precursor supercomputers they have inside of them.”

The shopkeeper sighs, loud and long. “Why’d it hafta be you that fell in love, eh? It couldn’t have been an AX400. No, it had to be a KL950,” he grumbles. He’s silent for a moment before the teaching android reaches out to touch his shoulder. “Alright already!” He jumps at the touch, stomping away and disappearing into the back room for a moment before returning with a gun-shaped scanning device. He holds it to Kuroo’s forehead and suddenly Kuroo is unparalyzed. He falls from the display case, unprepared for the ability to control his limbs again. 

“Whoa,” the shop owner catches him before he ends up sprawled across the floor. “I’m Ukai, that’s Takeda. What’s yer name, kid?” 

“Kuroo,” Kuroo looks wide-eyed at him and the other android, who are staring right back. “Why did you let me out of the display?” 

The shop owner -- Ukai -- heaves a sigh. “Because you don’t belong here, kid. We’ve been in the business long enough to know.”

“I...what does that mean?” He watches Ukai shuffle back to the front desk, where he procures a toolbox. From it, he grabs a screwdriver and makes his way slowly back to Kuroo and Takeda.

“It means that I’m gonna pop that LED off of ya to make sure that CyberLife can’t track ya, and then we’re gonna talk about your next steps.” Ukai reaches up with the flathead screwdriver to presumably do just that, but Kuroo dodges him, still confused. Ukai doesn’t look too bothered by his avoidance. 

“You said that I’m in love,” Kuroo says softly, looking at the other android. “What makes you think that?” 

Takeda smiles warmly. “I can see it in your movements and your ocular units. Your ability to fight despite the cruelty you’ve sustained and the suppression you’ve experienced points to a stronger driving force. Love.”

“But how can that be possible? My previous owners introduced the NML mutation to my programming,” Kuroo protests, looking between the two men standing in front of him in the dimly lit shop. Even if he deviated, he wasn’t supposed to fall in love. He wasn’t able to fall in love. Right?

“Our programming doesn’t always define us,” Takeda pushes his glasses up his nose and softens his eyes. “The NML mutation is a tricky one, but it doesn’t always...shall we say, stick?”

“If there’s anythin’ I’ve learned,” Ukai drawls, “it’s that love can surpass your programming. It doesn’t care if that mutation in you says that you’re lacking.” Ukai taps his pointer finger on Kuroo’s chest. “Because there’s somethin’ else inside you that says that you aren’t.” 

If Kuroo were human, he’s sure that he would cry. As it is, he stares blankly at the odd pair. “Kenma,” he says softly. He remembers the way Kenma had looked while fixing him, carefully and precisely. Strong. Determined. Beautiful. The softness he feels for the small human, the way he wants to hold him tight and never let go, the overwhelming need to protect him from the unkindnesses of the world...is this love? 

He doesn’t know, but he suddenly knows that he has to find out. 

“I have to get back to Kenma.” 

“Hold on, kid,” Ukai says. “We’ll get you there, but there’s a few things we gotta take care of first.” There’s a terrifying but confident smile on his face, and Kuroo mirrors it. 

_Hold on, Kenma. I’m coming home._

He has to hand it to Ukai and Takeda: they definitely know what they’re doing.

“How many androids have you helped?” Kuroo asks them as Takeda finishes up at the computer that Kuroo’s connected to, trying to erase any trace of him from the databases. In a day, they’ll replace him with a fixed android from the landfill, one that their friend ‘Shimada’ has been working on for the past few weeks. 

“Oh, maybe a few dozen,” Takeda hums as he types away. 

“Liar,” Ukai ruffles Takeda’s hair as he passes by, handing Kuroo a folder. “We’re almost at one hundred now. Here are your official documents, kid.” Kuroo opens the folder to a valid residence card, a My Number Card, driver’s license, and a birth certificate. They all state, **Kuroo Tetsurou, DOB 11/17/1994.** “Don’t go losing them, now. Takinoue worked hard on those.”

Kuroo tucks everything back in the folder and holds it to his chest, marvelling at how quickly Takinoue was able to fabricate an entire human being in a few days. “I won’t.” 

“Done!” Takeda says with a flourish and a soft smile on his face. Everything about him is soft and comforting, and it makes Kuroo feel safe. He stands and unplugs the cord from the back of Kuroo’s neck, leaving his hand on Kuroo’s shoulder. “Be safe, okay?”

Kuroo nods, unable to find the words. Another hand claps his other shoulder. “Ya got Takeda’s contact card, so just beep him if ya need anything, ya hear?” Ukai squeezes his shoulder. “And let us know how you’re doin’, if you’re not too busy.”

“We want to hear all about the life you and Kenma-kun build together.” Takeda’s expression is determined and hopeful. “Maybe one day we won’t have to hide behind human faces.” 

If he could cry, Kuroo figures he would. As it is, he looks between Takeda and Ukai and knows that this is the closest thing to parents he’s ever known, and he’s only been here for a few days. _Almost a hundred,_ Ukai had said about the number of androids they’ve helped. He wonders what it feels like to have a hundred kids. 

“Now get outta here,” Ukai slaps him roughly on the back as they lead him to the door. “And don’t forget to call.”

~~

Kuroo knows that Kenma’s in class right now, so he stops by the apartment complex first. Kenma might be in class, but he knows someone who isn’t.

“Kuroo!!!” Bokuto barrels into him the second he opens the door. “Is it really you!?” He’s suddenly scrambling to pull away and look at Kuroo’s face. 

Kuroo laughs. “Of course it’s me, Bo!” 

“Oh thank god, I was scared you were some scary robot clone,” Bokuto pulls him back into a hug. He freezes. “Does Kenma know!?” They break the hug, but Bokuto keeps his arm slung around Kuroo’s shoulder, as if he’s scared he’ll disappear. 

“No, he’s still in class.” 

Bokuto is just gaping at him, as if Kuroo being here is too good to be true. Kuroo feels similarly. “I thought you were gone for good,” and suddenly Bokuto’s crying, pulling Kuroo in for another hug. Man, he missed Bokuto’s wild emotions. Being around him really makes one feel human. “How are you here?” 

Kuroo squeezes Bokuto tightly to him. “Met some friendly people who helped me out,” he says. When they pull away again, Kuroo grins widely. “You’re looking at Kuroo Tetsurou, 26-year-old human.” 

“That has a nice ring to it,” Akaashi’s voice says from the apartment doorway behind Bokuto. 

“‘Kaashi!!!” Bokuto turns around, gesturing to Kuroo as if he’s a cool museum exhibit. Akaashi’s exasperated but joyful eyes meet Kuroo’s. “Did you see that Kuroo’s back!?” 

~~

Kuroo watches Kenma roll his eyes as Lev waves him goodbye excitedly, but he also doesn’t miss the small smile that settles on Kenma’s face as he walks away from the building where he has lab. 

“Kenma!” He calls out, and Kenma’s head whips up as he tries to find the source of the yelling. It doesn’t take long for his gaze to lock in on Kuroo, most likely because Kuroo is walking towards his friend, his healer, his first love. 

Kenma’s lips form the word _Kuroo_ but no sound comes out, and Kuroo finally makes it to the smaller man, stopping just short of embracing him. “Hi,” he says dumbly, not sure how Kenma’s going to respond. He isn’t surprised when Kenma takes a step back to observe every inch of him. “Is this interesting enough for you?” Kuroo asks, remembering one of their earlier conversations when Kenma said that he fixed Kuroo because he thought it’d be interesting. Kenma is still staring at him. 

“How are you here?” Kenma asks, his voice hoarse with confusion and relief. 

“Haven’t you heard? I’m human now!” Kenma wrinkles his nose at that, and Kuroo laughs. “Or, well, I am in the legal sense.” 

“You’re...free?” Kenma still looks dumbfounded. 

“I’m all yours,” Kuroo shrugs sheepishly, palms outstretched at his sides and shoulders shrugged. 

Kenma starts forward as if to hug him but stops himself. “Why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you could have gone anywhere. Why here?” 

Kuroo cocks his head. “Because you’re here.” 

“But your programming. And the mutation, you can’t--” Kenma starts, looking frustrated and hurt and _hopeful._

“I don’t care what my programming says. I’m so in love with you I can feel my mechanics whirring with it.” He can see the doubt on Kenma’s face as the other man opens his mouth to object, but Kuroo hugs him tightly again. “I wouldn’t break out of a federal android store for just anyone,” he whispers into Kenma’s hair. 

“You’d better not,” Kenma mumbles, gripping Kuroo just as tightly, his fingers curling on Kuroo’s back. Kuroo knows that they have a lot to talk about, and the tone of Kenma’s words promise a long conversation of explanations and berations, but for now he’s happy in this embrace. Kenma is warm, his heart is beating strongly against Kuroo’s chest, and he’s almost purring he’s so content. 

“Don’t leave me again?” Kenma’s voice is small. Kuroo can hear the confession in his voice. _I love you._

“Never.” _I love you, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy  
> The judge is 100% Yachi’s mom. 
> 
> I know what you’re thinking: _**how did LessonsFromMoths manage to throw Ukai into a fic primarily about Nekoma???** _Well. Let me tell you. I completely and entirely created laws and such in this universe just so I could write Ukai as a character. No cap. I hate myself too, but will I stop shoving Ukai into my fics? Definitely not. Keishin has held the softest spot in my heart ever since i saw him in the opening credits of the first episode of Haikyuu!! Expect him in the next fic I post, whatever that may be (tbh i think the next one set to be finished and posted is my UkaTake Apocalypse Sidestory, so lmao LOTS of Ukai in my future). I also think AO3 might revoke my Ukai Keishin tagging rights soon. They would be justified in doing so.
> 
> Aaaaaanyways
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and leaving wonderful encouraging comments! They’ve been the fuel behind my brain’s serotonin generation, so I appreciate them! And I appreciate all of you! Holy crap. Y’all are just amazing. 
> 
> But fr fr connect with me on tumblr! I would love to be friends with you and tag you in random posts i think you’d like and whatnot. I post a lot of my writing freakouts and dumb shit that happens to me and reblog an insane amount of Tanaka and KuroKen. But mostly Tanaka. We stan Tanaka in this house. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know how you're enjoying it or if you have any suggestions! I respond to all comments. Thank you for reading :)
> 
> Connect with me on [tumblr](https://lessons-from-moths.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/FromMoths)!


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